


The Thrill Of Darkness

by Jericho_andromeda_winters



Series: The Thrill [2]
Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:24:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 123
Words: 119,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jericho_andromeda_winters/pseuds/Jericho_andromeda_winters
Summary: Continuation of the thrill of control.





	1. 1

STOP!!!  
Don't read this if you haven't read the thrill of control; this is the second book in the series, so if you don't read the first, this will make absolutely zero sense!!

Jericho's POV:

I squinted in the abyssmal darkness as I walked slowly through the dense underbrush, glancing behind me every so often to make sure I wasn't being followed. The beam of my flashlight flickered on and off dimmly and didn't provide me much visibility beyond around five feet. It was almost more like a handicap rather than a help. And where was that damned path...? 

I jumped a mile in the air as the brush to my right rustled loudly. I whipped around, shining my light in the direction of the noise as the beam flickered eerily. My breaths became short and panicked as the bushes continued to move. For the love of God please let that be a rabbit...

A low, warbling growl from the bush that couldn't have belonged to any person or animal quickly dashed my hopes for a harmless woodland creature. I stifled what would have been an embarrassing squeek, turning on my heels and running into the trees. The growl turned into a ferocious roar as whatever was behind me gave chase, crashing noisily through the bushes behind me. 

"Come on come on come on..." I chanted to myself. Couldn't I go any faster?!

Suddenly, the noise disappeared. I continued running for a couple seconds before I stopped and turned, peering into the darkness in bewilderment. Where...?

I was suddenly tackled violently to the ground, the roar of the beast on top of me filling my ears and covering my scream. I was flipped over on the ground to face the most terrifying creature I had ever seen. I didn't have much time to look at it before it brought its clawed hands to my face and stabbed its thumbs into my eyes, blacking out my vision. 

GAME OVER

I breathlessly ripped off the VR headset, panting as I wiped the sweat from my brow and tried to soothe my racing heart. 

"FUCK! Oh my GOD that was horrifying!!" I yelled as I tossed the offending controller and goggles aside. I glared daggers at Mark as he fell into a laughing fit, holding his stomach as tears of mirth rolled down his face.

"Oh! Ohoho my GOD! That was amazing!" He guffawed, his voice hoarse from the workout, "you're so bad at this!" 

I crossed my arms. "Ya done?"

He sighed, letting out a couple more giggles before he nodded and grinned at the camera as he wiped his eyes.

"And that's the end of Jay-bird's first playthrough of 'Winter's end!' I hope you guys enjoyed that as much as I did," he said, shooting me a grin. I harrumphed and plopped myself down in the chair next to his. 

"...Well in any case, I think you all enjoyed that more than she did. Anyway guys, don't forget to like and subscribe so you can see more collabs! And as always, I will see YOU in the next video. Buh-byeeee!" With a final exaggerated wave, Mark turned the camera of and swiveled his chair towards me, still grinning. 

"So how'd you like your first let's play?" He asked, nudging me with his elbow. I huffed and stood, narrowing my eyes at him as I struggled to keep my lips from twitching upward. I gave up the battle after a couple seconds, letting my face relax into an exhasperated smile. 

"Yeah, laugh it up, Markimoo. Don't pretend you didn't scream like a little girl those first couple times."

He pouted as he opened the door for me.

"I mean- AH!" 

He ducked as a glass plate  whipped its way over his head like a frisbee, shattering on the wall opposite the door of his studio. Both of us blinked at the shards for a second before slowly turning to peek out the door.

"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK, I'M BUSY!!" Sean yelled. He was dashing around the living room chasing after Chica, who had one of his silver arrows in her mouth. Her laughter echoed loudly through our minds:

All work and no play makes Jack-a-boy a dull boy! She giggled, bursting into louder laughter when Sean tripped and fell over a throw rug. He put his face in his arms and let out a muffled scream of frustration followed by some colorful language that would make any sailor's ears turn red.

It looked like the plate had come from Marzia, who was brandishing a glass bowl as Felix backed away, hands held up in surrender.

"Wait, Marzia I didn't-"

"Take. It. Back," she growled, raising the bowl threateningly, "No one calls me princess, especially not a maroon like you!"

"Uh... do you mean moron...?" Felix asked tentatively. His answer was a bowl aimed at his head. He yelped and ducked, allowing the bowl to continue on its course. It ended up flying into the kitchen with a crash followed by a curse and several loud clangs that made me wince. After a slight pause, a very angry Dark stomped out of the kitchen with what looked like lumpy oatmeal spilled all over his immaculate suit. His aura flared up to the ceiling, making everyone in the living room freeze as he glared bloody murder at each of us in turn. The broken shards of the glass bowl were suspended in the air before him by his shadows, the sharp edges pointed threateningly outward.

"Who is responsible for this?" He asked softly, his voice flat and deadly serious. Felix and Marzia glanced at each other quickly, the nervous looks on their faces an obvious tell. Dark growled and sent the shards flying towards them with a flick of his wrist. The two perpetrators dove out of the way just in time to avoid getting skewered. 

"Hey gang, we- BEJEEBUS CHRIMBUS!!" 

Wiishu appeared in the middle of the living room out of the blue, right in the line of fire. She  Immediately hit the deck with an 'oof,' allowing the shards of glass to embed themselves in the wall behind her. She got up and dusted herself off, looking uncharacteristically cross. She raised a finger and opened her mouth when she was interupted by a voice from the next room. 

"It is nine o'clock in the morning and you nitwits have already managed to ruin my day in record time," said Mikhail dryly as he leaned on the doorway with one unamused eyebrow raised, "Congratulations." 

"RIP in peace, house," Mark mumbled miserably as Amy walked over and patted him on the back with a sympathetic smile.

"Now if we are all ready to begin acting like adults, we have some business to discuss," said Mikhail.


	2. 2

Jericho's POV:

An entire week had passed since the ordeal with Anjali, though the break could hardly be described as relaxing; the daily Paranormal shenanigans thoroughly prevented that. Mark was kind enough to allow the motley crew  to stay at his mansion, but something told me he might have been regretting it just a bit. 

Mark, Felix, and Sean had begun to plan ahead on their playthroughs, spending hours a day in the studio to prepare for the times that they would be unable to work so that they wouldn't let down their fans. 

Anti was MIA, as was Atticus, the mysterious little boy I met in the underground. There had been no sign of Anjali, Fell, or even the resistance either, so we were pretty much just waiting for shit to hit the fan at any moment.

A lot of our days were spent trainibg, usually in pairs; Mark and Chica with Amy, Wiishu with Sean, Felix with Marzia, and of course, me with Dark. Mikhail came in occasionally to give his input, but he trained alone for the most part. Usually on the roof, which I thought was hilarious.

We all missed our snarky purple goth. Sean had taken Virgil's death especially hard since he felt like he was partially responsible for not forcing him to take a bigger sacrifice. After days of trying to reassure Sean, he proved impossible to console. It hurt to know that he had yet another life on his conscience. 

But despite everything, I felt like as long as we were together, it would turn out okay.


	3. 3

"Sit," Antioch said as he cleared the couch of papers with a swift flick of his wrist and plopped himself down. I blinked back at him as he crossed his ankle over his knee, leaning comfortably on the arm rest. 

"Er... shouldn't we..." I gestured to the motionless pair of legs that were sticking out from the front walkway, not knowing what words would fit such a situation. Anti rolled his eyes to the ceiling with an exhasperated sigh before flicking his fingers once more, this time towards me. 

I jumped as two ropes of emerald smoke whipped past my legs. I heard a loud scraping sound before a soft surface slammed into the back of my knees, forcing me to fall backward with a surprised yelp. The armchair that I was suddenly sitting in was yerked across the wood floor until I sat facing Antioch, my knees about a meter from his. 

"Calm down, he'll live. I knew I'd catch shit from you, so I just put him in a coma to skip the bratty bitch fit. Now," he said, leaning back and lacing his fingers together on his lap, "Let's talk about you."

"...What about me?" I asked slowly. He cocked his head, a calculating expression on his face.

"Before I stamp your ticket, I'm gonna need your story. All of it," he said, deadly serious, "all the way from where you grew up, who your parents were, to what orphanage you lived in, and how the actual shit you ended up in Inverness Ireland making a scraping as a fucking street rat."

My scowl became darker and darker as he went on, and by the end, I was glaring bloody murder at the offending creature.

"You violently kidnap me off the street, terrorise and threaten me, refuse to tell me any details of whatever ungodly goings on I've been unwillingly thrust in the middle of, and now you expect me to just tear myself open at the seams and lay out my young, troubled life for you to vivisect to satisfy your sick curiosity?" 

Antioch blinked. 

"Uh... yes. I think," He said before shaking his head as if coming back to himself, "Jesus kid, where did you get your fucking doctorate?" He snarked with a raised eyebrow, "you sound more uptight than Anjali."

"I'm not going to bother asking who that is," I said tiredly as I slumped back in the chair and scrubbed a hand down my face. I was so done wi

"Good. Don't. Because I'm the one asking the questions here, Shakespeare. And if the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an acceptable answer..." he narrowed his eyes and flared the light inside them. 

"You'll be starring in one of those dusty old tradgedies you're so fond of."

"So like the toad, ugly and venomous... and green," I added on to the quote. I let my eyes drop to the floor then, taking a couple moments to gather my thoughts...


	4. 4

London, England, 4 years ago  
Oliver's POV:

I hated the color green. 

I hated everything about it.

I hated all the horrible, painful memories that had been seared  into my mind in livid shades of emerald. I hated the involuntary wave of instinctual terror that crawled coldly across my skin and down my spine whenever I caught a flash of pulsing green out of the corner of my eye. I hated how the fear of that color ruled my very life, how it entrapped me and held me down and forced me to be weak and cowardly.

There was only one thing that surpassed my abject loathing for the disgusting hue, and that was the ruthless monster that I'd come to associate it with:

My father, Luther Saul. 

Saul never had any connection to me but by blood, and possessed none of the amnity a father would normally show his son. I don't remember ever calling him dad, or father, or anything else besides sir. He was apathetic on his best days and merciless on his worst; at six years old, my skin was riddled with at least four years worth of ugly blemishes and scars underneath the fresh cuts, bruises and burns from Saul's more recent episodes. He only fed me just enough to ward off suspicion, and always made sure to hit me where it hurt and where it wouldn't show. We had a big, beautiful house in east London, with a nice garden and nice streets and nice neighbors. It seemed like we were the only ones who didn't fit in with that perfect picture, a nasty wound hidden under a pleasant lie, just like the scars that covered my body.

He made the reason for his abuse clear from the start. From the moment I knew how to speak and listen, it was quite literally beaten into my head that I was somehow  responsible for my mother's death. I didn't get the whole truth until years later when I was nine, but as a child, I couldn't have known any better. How could I have known any better than the things my father had been carving into my skin from birth? 

I am guilty. I am guilty, and I should feel guilty. 

I am a parasite. I'm a mistake living on stolen time.

I deserve this. I deserve to suffer for what I did. 

Looking back on Saul four years later, I could see him for exactly what he was: a sniveling coward and a rotten bastard of a father that was more of a monster than I would ever be. Looking back, I could freely fantasize about the endless possible ways that I wished I had done. I could have run. I could have sought help from a neighbor.  I could have taken off my shirt in public somewhere, thrown it all out in the open. I knew that looking back would destroy me one day, drive me as mad as Saul.

But I can't really blame myself for the urge, especially considering how it all fell apart that final day. I was just days away from being six years old, but I wasn't excited; Saul was always worse on my birthday.

"OY, LEECH! WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS TAKIN' SO LONG ON THE STEAK?!"  Screamed Saul from the  living room, making me flinch and drop the spatula. His accent was blatantly western, adding to its abrasiveness.

"Sorry, sir! They're almost ready, I'll try to go faster," I called out hurriedly, breaking out in a slight sweat as a sharp pulse of adrenaline shot through me, sending my heart into double time and setting my hands to shaking. 

"YOU'D FUCKIN' BETTER IF YOU WANT FOOD BEFORE THURSDAY, YOU LITTLE SHIT STAIN!!" 

I held in a whimper, feeling tears pricking my eyes at the concept. It was tuesday afternoon, and the last meal I'd had was yesterday night. Coincidentally, Saul's latest drunken episode had been around the same time. It had been exceptionally violent, so I was still weak. To make things worse, he had recently begun using his switch blade on me as well, so I had bloodloss and the risk of infection to deal with. With the way things were escalating at that point, I wasn't sure if I would live long enough to go to kindergarten.

I swallowed heavily as I piled both  sirloin steaks onto Saul's plate, followed by a helping of mashed potatoes and a couple slices of garlic italian bread. I made certain everything was perfect before grabbing two beers from the fridge and walking tentatively into the lion's den. This was my least favorite part of the day. I cooked all the meals in the house , usually spending at least an hour and a half on each to make sure everything was immaculate. He was busy on his computer when breakfast and lunch were served, so I could usually hurry away without incident. But when dinner came... 

I walked towards the monster's throne on jelly legs, more nervous than usual due to Saul's recent use of a knife. 

He was an average looking man,  nothing to turn your head at. Though he wouldn't look half bad If he just smiled and shaved a bit and maybe got a little sleep while he was at it. But I knew he wouldn't. He'd continue to kill both of us slowly instead.

"Well it's about fuckin' time, leech," Saul growled as hatefully as always as he leaned forward to see what was on the plate. I let go as soon as he had a firm hold on the plate, stepping back quickly before I came in contact with the most terrifying aspect of the ruthless beast that was Luther Saul:

His light. His deep, dark, abyssmal green light that was always flared a couple feet above him no matter what, always turned up full blast because of the turbulence inside of him that constantly fueled it. He was the only green light I had ever seen, so I had come to the conclusion that a toxic green neon light meant malevolence. 

He began stuffing the food in his mouth as I backed up quickly and tried to leave the room. 

"Why so skittish, little leech?" Came Saul's voice in a mockingly concerned tone, "you're not still scared of the 'lights,' are ya?" He said, sarcasm saturating the word he mocked. I didn't turn, keeping my head down. 

"Awww, the lil' pumpkin's scared! Fuckin' pansy," he spat the last words angrily as he abandoned his simpering facade, "Now leech, If you don't turn and face me like the man you'll never be, I'm gonna have to come over there and turn your head for you... whether or not your body turns with it isn't my problem."

Heart ripping a frantic tattoo inside my chest, I turned around and slowly raised my eyes to his. He laughed. I hated his laugh.

"So tomorrow's your sixth b-day, huh leech? You excited?" He smirked. I could feel the blood drain from my face at his words. Tomorrow? Was it already that time? Oh god....

"It's just another day, Sir," I responded neutrally. He sighed and took a long swig of his beer before nodding. 

"Damn right. You got nothin' to celebrate, you hear me, boy? Nothin' at all." He said flatly as he stared straight into my eyes with his cold, dead gaze, looking for any sign of emotion, any crack in my armor that he could exploit. Normally when he said things like this, he just wanted to get under my skin and let me go after he felt he'd made his point. But the way he was looking at me now made me feel guarded and on edge, like he was planning something...something that wasn't good. 

"Well we do have one thingto celebrate..." he said as he sat back in his chair, looking like the cat who got the cream.

"And what is that, sir?" I asked, still remaining neutral despite the stark terror that was overtaking me. 

"I mayyyy have told a little fib when I told you that I was your only family," he said as he watched my jaw drop with no small amount of satisfaction. Seeing that I was speechless, he continued.

"You have- oops, had- a granpappy and an uncle. But ol' Reuben Saul died of a heart attack this past weekend at the ripe old age of eighty six," he chuckled with a small smile and a shake of his head, "satan rest his soul 'til I get down there and torture him myself."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly extremely dry. 

"A-And my uncle?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out, "you said... you said you were an only child."

He shot out of the chair suddenly, his face contorted in a terrifying grimace of rage. I immediately ducked my head and stared submissively at the floor. It was an automatic reaction; bending to his will and walking the path of least resistance was at that time as natural as breathing for me. Trading my dignity and pride for the privilege of existing was the norm, and I accepted it gladly. Anything to stay alive long enough to get out of there.

"THAT'S CAUSE I FUCKIN' DON'T, YOU SCRAWNY LITTLE FUCK!!" Saul roared at my lowered head, making me cower and flinch and hate myself. 

"Atticus Saul," He hissed venomously, "Was a nutty lunatic, just like his father and mother. And all of them were uppity little snots! And you know what's real funny? You know what just tickles me silly, Olliver?" He asked quietly, the use of my actual name instead of a curse or insult prompting me to look up at him in shock. He... he never... 

He grabbed my collar with one hand before I could duck away. I cried out as I was slammed against the wall, my feet dangling freely. I didn't dare kick him though. 

"You know what's real funny, Oliver? Your little fairy stories run in the goddamn family!" He snarled, giving me a firm shake, "Atticus was always talkin' bout 'the lights, the lights,' like he was fuckin' special! And my fuckin' hippy-ass parents bought it!"

He raised his other hand, shattering his half full beer bottle beside my head, soaking my shirt with the heady drink. I fought a wave of nausea at the stench of cheap booze that I'd come to hate. Beer smelled green.

"Oh, they fuckin' ate that shit UP! 'Oh sweetie tell us what you see, oh Atticus you're so taaaaalented," he squawked in a mockingly high pitched falsetto. He then leaned in close, his eyes narrowing into threatening serpentine slits as he brought the jagged remains of his vice to my neck. 

"My dear older brother got all the fuckin' fame soon as he hit sixteen, and I was left in the dust. 'We'll tell you when you're older, son.' Every question I asked was ignored. My name was fuckin' mud. So I ran," he began making small cuts along my collarbone as he spoke, just barely deep enough to bleed. I winced but stayed silent.

"I ran away at fifteen years old. Faked my death. Layed low. Moved to england to get away. And when I was eighteen, I met the light of my life," his voice began to waver as he spoke, even though his face and eyes were carved from stone. The cuts began to get a little deeper, and I had to bite my cheek to keep quiet.

"She was so beautiful and sweet and so goddamn kind. She was..." he trailed off, his eyes finally showing a hint of life a solitary tear made its way down his cheek and through his messy stubble. Still staring off into space, he began to grind the jagged bottle into the hollow of my chest so hard that his fingers started to shake. I whimpered, then moaned, then screamed as it dug deeper into my flesh, the pressure so great that I felt my collarbone begin to give way ever so slightly. His face whipped back to me, twisting itself into a gargoyle-esque snarl. His light began to burn me.

"YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!! YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME, YOU GOD DAMN LEECH!!" He screamed, his voice blasting my ears, "Do you know how long I've wanted to end you?! You know how long I've wanted to snuff your little 'light' out?!" 

"Ah- wh-why... urk.. why d-didn't you?" I panted, scrabbling at the hand holding the bottle to try and lesson the brutal pressure. I had to stall. Keep talking. 

"Because those bastards that call themselves my family threatened to use my past mistakes against me. I kill you, I go to jail for life. So I was stuck with the little shit weasel for however long they wanted. But now..." his eyes widened as his mouth stretched into an insane cheshire grin as he finally let me go, stepping back and letting me tumble to the ground as I heaved for much needed air. I looked up into his wild eyes and saw nothing, absolutely nothing human within them. He'd finally tipped; he was completely mad.

"Now that granpappy's dead and Atty is MIA, I get to hear you scream, loud and long."

I scrambled out of the way as he lunged, diving between his legs and ramming my elbow into the back of his knee as I went, making him stumble. For once, I was happy he had been drinking. 

I sprinted into the kitchen as he cursed fouly and gave chase. I grabbed the butcher knife I had used to cut onions earlier that day and continued to run, toppling chairs from the long table as I went. I was gasping deeply for breath as fear and adrenaline screamed through me, pushing my heart into overdrive. My surroundings were thrown into sharp relief as my mind raced to try and find a way to get out, to get out alive.

I rounded the corner into our posh guestroom as he stumbled tipsily behind me. Drunk or not, no middle aged adult was equipped to best an adrenaline charged six year old with nothing left to lose.

I vaulted over the couch and leapt from armchair to armchair, my movements nimble and lithe. I darted around the corner right back into the living room as he struggled to follow. I dove underneath the baby grand piano; the skirt was always on the unused instrument, providing curtains on the sides to make it the perfect hiding place. 

Though I knew that I would have to do more than hide; I would have to take a life in order to live.

The irony of the name 'leech' didn't escape me. 

"Oh oooooolieeeee.... ollie-ollie- oxenfreeeeee...." crowed Saul as his boots echoed loudly against the tile floor. He had insisted on decking the entire house with seamless white granite tile. The day he had it done, I was confused as to the reason. I quickly found out that same night; it's easier to clean blood off of tile than it is carpet. And it apparently looks prettier on a white background.

I clenched the knife in my teeth and quietly slipped off my shoes as he continued to taunt me.

"Aw, c'mon, Ollie! Don't you wanna play with your dear ol' dad?" 

I waited until I heard him pass the piano, heading towards the couch. Still clenching the knife in my teeth, I crouched and carefully peeled aside the fabric that secured my hiding place. I gripped the knife in my hand so hard that my knuckles turned white. I crept up slowly behind the beast as he looked under the couch, completely soundless. He straightened and turned around just a moment too late. 

I sunk the knife into the base of his neck by his shoulder without the slightest hesitation, using every last bit of power in my six year old body to push through the muscle and sinew. I knew from experience that it was the most vulnerable place on the body. I felt the knife twitch and pop as it pushed past any obstacles on its way home. 

I looked into Saul's eyes the entire time, taking no joy in the bloody spray that I was unable to avoid, nor his expression of shock and fear as he crumbled before me and fell limply to his knees with a weak gurgle. I followed his descent, still holding the knife in to the hilt. 

I took no joy from it, and nor did I feel any hatred or anger. The scene playing out before me wasn't happy or tragic or frightening-  it just was. 

Finally, he slumped all the way to the floor like a rag doll. I still didn't let go of the knife, instead letting myself fall the same way, staring at him listlessly as his eyes glazed over and he breathed his last.

That was the first and last time I'd ever seen someone's light disappear. 

It was.... 

Cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm not really sure how long I lay there on the now red and white tile floor beside my father's corpse, both of us covered in cheap booze and blood. Maybe I was in shock. I wouldn't know; I was six. But it didn't really matter anyway. To be honest, nothing did. 

I felt nothing when I pushed myself off the floor and walked away from his body without a second glance.

I felt nothing when I layed out some towels and rolled the body out of the way.

I felt nothing when I got out the bucket of supplies I usually used to tidy up the floors after my own beatings to clean and disinfect the floor.

I felt nothing when I turned the shower on and let the blood roll off of my raw skin without waiting for the water to warm up.  
I didn't even feel the needle I used to stitch myself up. 

I felt nothing when I dragged the body to the garage and dumped it there, turning off the light and closing the door softly. 

It was a long, long time before I was able to feel anything again. 

Except alone. 

I felt very, very alone.


	5. 5

Anti's POV 

I sat completely still as Atticus finished his story, watching his eyes flick up to mine briefly before going straight back to the floor, as if he was afraid of my reaction. He didn't look angry or sad. He just looked numb, like he had said. There was just nothing there. 

"...Atticus."

He looked up slowly after a moment, meeting my eyes. Yup. Empty. 

"Stand up."

He stood up. 

"Take off your shirt, kid." 

He did so after only a moment's hesitation, slipping it off slowly and staring at the wall over my head. My eyes widened at the freak show that was his skin.

Jesus fucking christ...

His stomach and chest were covered in scars from cuts, burn marks, and abrasions ranging in severity from mild to severe. One of the slashes on the side of his ribs looked life threatening. There was a raised circle about the size of my palm that must have been the broken bottle Saul used before Atticus killed him.

"...turn around," I said flatly, keeping my face carefully blank. I cursed lowly when he complied, running a hand roughly through my hair in disbelief.

Fuck. His back was worse. The scars there were longer and deeper and more painful looking. Nearly his entire upper back was pure raised scar tissue. In the center of his lower back, there was a word carved messily into the skin in capital letters:

L E E C H 

He... he was branded.

I sat back, unable to take my eyes off of the sight. This was worse than anything I had ever done in torture, worse than anything I'd seen Fell do or endured myself. Sure, the injuries that I inflicted were often deeper and more bloody. But that didn't mean they hurt more. 

Most people underestimate the power of psychological torture. It didn't matter how many fingers or eyelids you removed; the victim had to be stripped of all hope before they gave you what you needed. You had to get in their head, break them, make them believe they had no choice. Usually this took me just a couple hours. But Atticus... Atticus had been enduring it his entire young  life. For this to happen to a child...

How the fuck did someone get back up after all that??

I got up and approached, kneeling behind him. We didn't say anything for awhile as I examined and identified the different types of scarring. Countless cigarette burns... slashes, shallow stabs... those little dots looked like they could be from pushpins or something. I shook my head in disbelief. 

Sick bastard.

I looked up to see Atticus looking over his shoulder at me, waiting for me to say something. I stood and turned him to face me with a hand on his shoulder. I met his eyes steadily for a moment before I spoke. 

"Sorry you had to go through that, kid," I said. For once, I was sincere. He dropped his gaze and shook his head. 

"It's in the past," he said flatly. I cocked my head, considering his words and his tone. In that moment, I saw my old self in him. All I could think was that I wouldn't wish anyone down the path that I was forced to walk in life, much less a child. 

Wait, what was I thinking? Why did I care? That's right- I didn't. It was none of my damn business. I turned abruptly and sat back on the couch with a scowl, put off my my temporary insanity. I waited for Atticus to put his shirt back on and sit down before speaking.

"Alright. Let's hear the rest of it."

Atticus' POV, two years earlier  
London, England

 Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man.   
O! be some other name!

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet;   
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. 

Romeo, doff thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee,Take all my-

"Do you really understand that stuff, Ollie?" 

I looked up from my book to see Sarah peering over my shoulder, squinting at the words on the pages as if they were written in Mandarin. Her bright rosy pink light was curling slowly off of her, framing her pretty face. I shrugged as she plopped herself down on the bench next to me, setting her tray of second tier cafeteria pizza beside mine. 

 

"Well yeah. It took some practice though," I said modestly, trying not to sound too proud. She smiled, swinging her good leg back and forth under the bench. 

"Wow. I didn't even know how to read 'til last year. That's so cool!" She bubbled. I marked my place and put the book down, ducking my head to hide my blush. 

"Eh. It's nothing really..." I mumbled. She was about to say something else when another little boy with a much brighter and more intense red light sat down on the other side of the table. 

 

"Oh. Hello Solomon," I said with a smile at my best friend, relieved at his presence. With a third wheel it wouldn't be near as awkward. Well, at least I wouldn't be near as awkward. 

I had arrived at the orphanage two years prior, so I was eight and a half at the time. Solomon was seven, while his sister Sarah was six. Both had been at the orphanage since they were three and two, much longer than I had. The main reason that they hadn't been adopted was because of Sarah's  handicaps; she was born with a mangled left leg that the doctors had to amputate imediately, as well as a left arm that was slightly shorter and skinnier than the other one. She wore a prosthetic leg that wasn't exactly state of the art, so she moved very awkwardly. Other than that, I thought she was a very  beautiful girl. Not a lot of people wanted to deal with the time, money, and commitment that it would require to take on Sarah, and the few people who were willing to give it a go didn't want to adopt two kids at once. People had tried to adopt Solomon by himself, but he had always adamantly refused, sometimes to the point of coming to physical blows with the people who wanted to take him away from his sister. I had always admired that.

"Hey Ollie," said Solomon through a mouthful of the pizza he was already inhaling. Sarah did the same, only starting after her brother did. I shook my head and returned to my reading, knowing it would be quiet at our table for awhile.

"Mister Rhodes, the head counselor would like a word with you," came the voice of our attendant from the front of the cafeteria. Solomon's head perked up at the mention of his surname before it drooped again in a scowl. 

"Great. Wish me luck, gents; I'm off for the lion's den," he muttered in his sarcastically formal voice that he always used when he was angry. I hid my smile behind my book, and Sarah stifled her giggles with her hand, earning us a peeved glare before he sniffed, turned up his head, and left.

My best friend had a history of violence at Heritage Place Orphanage. Just in the last week he had broken a sixth Grader's nose. But it was justified in my opinion. Anything Solomon did was either in self defense or on behalf of his younger sister. 

Living with an ever changing group of fifty or so emotionally damaged children could be rough. 

I put my book down and turned to Sarah, who had stopped eating and was glummly resting her cheeks on her hands, trying valiantly to hold back her sniffles by looking angry instead of sad. She would always tease her brother about getting in trouble so often, but she worried about him. I put my arm around her shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Rosy. Solomon knows how to take care of himself."

But as it turned out, things were  most certainly not okay.

Some time later, Solomon walked mechanically into our board room during leisure hour, his young face sickly and white as a sheet. I could see the thin sheen of sweat on his brow as he sat down slowly beside me, staring at the floor. His hands were shaking, and he looked as if he wanted to vomit.

"Sollie? What's wrong?" I asked, not bothering to mark my page as I tossed my book aside. Solomon took a deep breath before looking at me, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

"Th-they... they want to t-take me to a different facility. In... in Dublin," he whispered brokenly. My eyes widened and I grabbed his shoulder, making him turn his head to me in surprise. 

"Dublin? Dublin Ireland?!" I exclaimed. He nodded miserably.

"Yeah... That's the one. They said I was too violent, so they want to cart me off to a correctional facility."

I shook my head incredulously. This couldn't be just because of that. They probably wanted to get rid of the Rhodes siblings because of how long they'd been there. If they separated them, problem solved. My blood boiled and I saw red. I was murderous. How dare they? How DARE they?

"I leave in two days, Ollie," my best and first friend said. I squeezed his shoulder.

"No. You're not. We leave tonight. Just not to Dublin." 

Solomon looked confused before he understood, smiling gratefully at me. They wouldn't be separating us. Not if I could help it.

That night, Solomon and I hefted the diminutive bags that held all we owned the world and stood at the door of our dormitory, grim looks on our faces.

"You ready, Ollie?" Solomon whispered.

"As I'll ever be, Sollie," I replied with a wry twitch of my lips. With that, I opened the door slightly, reaching my hand out and snapping softly- as much of a cliche as it is, snapping really helps. I heard the whir and click of the old security camera in the hallway that told me it was shorting out, along with all the others in the facility by exstension. For once, I was glad we were housed in such a decrepit old relic of a building; the newer the  technology, the harder it was for me to manipulate. 

Technopathy, as I had recently dubbed it (and later learned that it was actually already an official term) was a skill I had aquired a little over a year after I was rescued from Saul's house. I discovered it when I touched a teacher's phone and the entire memory card was wiped when she next opened it. At least it had gone from thirty to a hundred percent power. 

Solomon and Sarah were the only ones I had ever told about my powers.

Solomon and I put our shoes in our bags and crept down the hallway in our socks to the cafeteria, where he picked the lock to the storage room so that we could load up the rest of our bags with fruit, canned, and dry food, as well as a couple cooking knives. 

Bags full, we set them by the front entryway door in the corner. I guarded them while Solomon went to get his sister. When they came back, She was toting her old  pink backpack and hugging her toy cloth doll, Prairie Dawn, to her chest. 

"Are we leaving now? For good?" She asked as she hugged her doll tighter. I nodded as we all slipped on our shoes. I helped her tie hers. 

"Yeah. To Tomatin in Scotland. I had family there once," I said, remembering my father mentioning that town a couple times when he was cursing his family. My Grandfather had apparently lived there at one time. Who knows, Maybe Atticus was there; Saul had never explicitly confirmed his death, he'd just said his brother was MIA.

After one last demonstration of Solomon's miraculous lock picking prowess, we were off. We were at least six or seven kilometers away before we heard police sirens, but none of us looked back. 

.

.

.

.

'...The English Bureau of investigation has asked us to report three adolescents missing from the Heritage Place Orphanage in London, England. Sarah and Solomon Rhodes, ages six and seven, and Oliver Saul, age eight. Both of the boys have a history of violence. The children are not believed to have been abducted, but are instead thought to have left the Orphanage voluntarily in the middle of monday night some four days ago. Due to the longevity of the case, the search bounds have extended to Scottish borders. The children are all described as Caucasians with light brown hair and were last seen wearing..."

I turned off the car radio, shaking my head. This was troubling. They had extended the search first to the whole of London, then to England, and now to the Scottish shore. What was next? The entirety of the British isles? We were children for Pete's sake, not war criminals! 

"Why can't they just leave us alone? We left on our own, like they said!" Sarah grumbled from the back seat. I looked in the rearview mirror and held back a smile; her pout was quite adorable. 

"They're chasing us to make themselves feel better, obviously," said Solomon, also tamping down on a grin, "to make themselves feel like they're good people."

"That's stupid."

"I know."

"Hoooow about we stop for refreshers?" I said, hoping to get their mind off of things, "I'm feeling a mite bit peckish myself."

"Sure, Grandad. What's on your mind?" Solomon snarked. I rolled my eyes.

"You don't have to act so peevish because I sound more intelligent than you on your best day, Sollie."

"Peeeeeeevish," giggled Sarah, "Sollie's peeeeevish!"

"Yeah, whatever," laughed Solomon, "like you even know what that means."

"Hey!"

We had been on the road nearly five days now, and just had a few cans of food left. One of those cans was spinach, and I knew Sarah wouldn't eat that if it were the last vegetable on earth. 

After three days of walking and sleeping in parks and homeless shelters, we decided that enough was enough. We would have to drive. 

Stealing a car was quite easy; all we had to do was wait until nightfall and use my powers to unlock and then hotwire a chevy convertible. We made sure to pick one that wasn't too well off in order to soothe our counsciences a bit. We had been delighted to discover a full tank of gas in the car. After that, we were off as soon as I put on a hoodie to hide my youth from the others on the road. I had learned to drive long ago simply by observation and the fact that I sometimes had to drive Saul home from the bar or the hospital. I had to learn quickly.

I glanced at our meager food supply and then at the gas meter, as well as the ten dollars that was left of the money I had pocketed from passers by; all were nearly gone. I sighed as I put the car into park in front of a McDonald's. 

"Solomon... this isn't sustainable. We aren't going to be able to buy enough food and gas to last us to Tomatin," I said grimmly. Solomon shot me a worried glance as I continued, "and what if we do get there? Where would we go?" 

"...Well we'll think of something. For now..." Solomon said, opening his door to follow Sarah out, "Chicken nuggets!" 

I rolled my eyes. Such intelligent people.

.

.

.

.

.

.

We... We had just robbed a filling station. 

I couldn't get the concept through my head. It was like we were in a dream. 

First, I had gone in to watch how the man at the counter entered in the cash orders for the petrol pumps. After that, Sarah and Solomon came in to distract him while I snuck behind him and knoked him out with a pipe from the auto parts section. I had entered in thirty dollars to pump three and opened the register with my power, letting sarah and Solomon gather the money and as much food as they could fit in the car while I filled up the car. We made sure to pick a station that was between towns so that not many people would stop by there.  
Our total take was three hundred and eighty seven dollars.  

My God, I was a criminal. 

Solomon seemed okay with it, but Sarah was a bit worried.

"Are we gonna go to jail, Ollie?" She asked nervously. We had been on the road for a silent hour before she spoke. I glanced in the rearview mirror.

"No Rosy, not if we can help it," I said, using the nickname I'd given her for her pink aura, "Solomon and I will protect you." She smiled at my words.

"It's nice having two brothers."

And with that, she went to sleep on Solomon's shoulder. He'd been out for awhile. I however, couldn't stop grinning for the next hour.


	6. 6

Yo, I'm switching the story around. You already read this chapter, but I want it here. You should probably reread chapters three through six, too.

Okay, go.

Atticus' POV, present day:

"Okay, stop stop stop. You did WHAT?!" Antioch asked incredulously. My lips twitched.

"I robbed a filling station."

"You...  Jesus Christ," he muttered, shaking his head and mumbling something about psychopathic  eight year olds. We stared at each other for a moment longer before he suddenly stood and walked to the door. I stayed seated, following his movements with confused eyes. 

"You coming?" He shot over his shoulder. I blinked before getting out of the chair and following.

"Where are we going?" I asked, leaping out of the way before the door slammed on me like it did the previous tennant of apartment number 113 when Antioch had knocked him into a temporary coma. 

"Out," Antioch said flatly, not even sparing me a glance over his shoulder as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to slouch down the noisy streets of downtown Los Angeles with me in tow. I had to break into a light jog several times to keep up with the Demon's inconveniently lanky legs.

"...Kay," I said eventually. It was pointless to argue with someone as thick headed as him. His mouth twitched up in a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Hey, look at that- you're learning."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It took a lot of practice, but I had managed to master the art. After a couple blocks, we stopped in front of a tall building covered in advertisements for clothes, shoes, jewelery, and other odds and ends. 

"A department store?" I asked. I couldn't think of anything stranger than a mall-hopping Demon.

"Yep. The story can wait a bit, I was going stir crazy. Come on," he said shortly, jerking his head towards the door before he took off again at a brisk pace.

I stared enviously at the well dressed mannequins in the windows as we went from floor to floor. I'd never had the opportunity to buy anything so nice; all of my money had gone to paying rent to Pudge after I ran away from the orphanage in London. After hitch hiking all the way to inverness (and supernaturally hotwiring a car as a last resort) I didn't have the luxury of being picky about my living arrangements.

I almost bumped into Antioch's back when he stopped abruptly in the middle of the third floor. The stores I could see here were an Aeropostale, a Hot Topic, and some random resale shop called Kid to Kid. I looked up at Antioch questioningly. He simply motioned vaguely to the shops around the floor. 

"Well? Where do you wanna go first?" He asked as if I was daft. My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Wait. Are you going to buy me clothes?!" I asked incredulously. A young couple pushing a baby stroller gave us an odd look as they passed. Anti smirked and gave a little wave to the baby when the parents turned their heads, sending a little plume of shadow up from his fingertips. The child giggled and clapped, making Anti's smirk widen into a grin.

"Ah, the innocence of youth. She doesn't even know I could be eating her one day."

I suppressed a disgusted shudder at his words as he turned his attention back to me. 

"And to answer your question: fuck to the no. I don't buy, I take. Now hurry and pick out what you want before I change my mind and keep letting you circulate your only two outfits and washing them in the bathtub," he threatened, narrowing his eyes. He didn't have to ask me twice. I immediately turned and ran into the nearest store and began enthusiastically scowering the racks while Anti slouched against the wall, skillfully fiddling with a green butterfly knife that looked like it was made from the same material as his sword and glaring menacingly at passerbys.

"Bloody bit of a drama queen, isn't he?" I thought to myself with a shake of my head as I plucked a leather jacket off the rack.

"I heard that, Harry Potter," called Anti from across the store, drawing yet more odd looks. I didn't bother to turn around, instead sending him a mental eyeroll. He responded with a mental warning shot to mentally shut me up.


	7. 7

Anti's POV:

I watched Atticus scour the racks excitedly, piling his arms high with clothes until he could barely walk. It was amazing how he could be so excited about such a simple thing. Then again, with the sort of life he'd had...

I watched him finally make his way to the dressing room, wobbling unsteadily. Grinning, I lifted a finger towards him, sending a thin, nearly invisible line of shadows towards him. He tripped spectacularly as they wrapped around his feet, sending him to the floor with a squawk. I beat it around the corner before he saw me, slipping into the hot topic. I was pleasantly surprised; this was more my style! 

I examined a gnarly looking skull ring, turning it over in my hand as I thought about the past week.

Something was different. I didn't know what, but something had changed. Namely with me. If I had to describe it, I'd say I felt a little less... murdery. 

I wasn't craving fear anymore. Or blood. My last meal had been a week ago, and even that had been mechanical. The high, the rush that came from the kill... it was just gone. I. Felt. Nothing.

I hadn't even killed the owner of the apartment a couple hours ago. I wanted to want to, I really did. But I didn't. Jesus, is this what depression felt like? Did Demons even get depressed? Fuck.

I dropped the ring that was now an unidentifiable lump of mangled metal. I stared down at it for a moment, hands in my pockets as I pondered my current state. Honestly, I had to ask... did I really give a fuck?

Not really, I realized. Not that I had ever given a fuck about anything in my entire life. That's part of what made me famous.

So was this a bad thing? That remained to be seen. The only thing I knew for certain was that Atticus was the cause. I had to find out what he was. Soon. 

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Antioch? I think I'm done."

I turned to see my little charge looking up at me. He gestured back to the store.

"They bagged up all the clothes and I told them I'd go get my babysitter to pay for it," he said with a twitch of his lips. I cocked my eyebrow at him.

"Baby sitter? Fucking really?" I snapped. He shrugged.

"Isn't that what you are?" He snarked. 

"Yeah, whatever you little smartass," I scoffed. There it was again; a week ago I probably would have bitch slapped the brat into next tuesday. 

"So... how are we going to pay- err, take- the clothes?" He asked. I smirked.

"Ready to see some magic, smartass?" I asked. He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. 

"You... aren't gonna kill them are you?" He asked slowly. I rolled my eyes.

"As much as I want to (damn I wished that wasn't a fucking lie), no. I'm not. Come on," I said, jerking my head towards the store. I shot a grin at him over my shoulder.

"Watch this." 

I snapped my fingers.

Thirty minutes later...

"That. Was. Brilliant!!" Atticus exclaimed as I uncloaked us in the alley way beside the apartment, "Did you see the looks on their faces?! Can you teach me how to turn invisible?" He asked excitedly. I shrugged.

"If it's within your skill set, sure. We don't know exactly what you are yet though, much less what you can do." 

"Oh," he said, disappointed. I ruffled his hair roughly before shoving his head to the side as I kept walking, ignoring his indignant exclaimation. He grumbled quietly alongside me as we went. 

Maybe this wasn't a bad thing.

I certainly enjoyed his company more than Fell's, anyway.


	8. 7

Jericho's POV:

"Things? Like what?" I asked as I plopped myself onto the couch by Sean, who was pouting at Chica sitting across the room with his arrow in her mouth, tail wagging merrily. 

"It's not as if we've been having much trouble lately," Dark said as he materialized by my side, drawing me into his lap. I didn't bother to protest; there wasn't anywhere I'd rather be anyway. 

"Hey! I've had trouble!" Mark exclaimed, "And you know what my trouble is? You people!" He said, pointing an accusing finger at all of us before turning around and crossing his arms in a full bodied pout. He whipped his head around to glare at Dark over his shoulder when he chuckled. I slapped Dark's shoulder.

Be nice!

No.

"The thing we need to talk about, children," Mikhail growled, "is the slaughter in Munich." 

"What slaughter?" Came the collective shout as we all straightened.

"Well. Now it's a party," said Dark in bemusement. I raised my hand again threatentenly, narrowing my eyes. He simply caught my hand and brought to his mouth, placing a slow kiss to my palm as his mischevious eyes smoldered teasingly into mine. I scowled through my blush. Mikhail cleared his throat with a glare.

"IF I have your attention," he said, straightening his tie as he pointedly ignored us, "There was a mass murder of approximately fifty people a little ways outside Munich, Germany at approximately three A.M."

"From the looks of it, the incident was part of some sick rite," said Wiishu, crossing her arms, "a mile wide magic circle was burned into the ground around the bodies, and dark magic was definitely involved. If you ask me," her face turned grim, "it was a sacrifice."

We were all silent for a couple seconds.

"Were you able to identify the rite genus? Any evidence of the perpetrator's species?" Asked Sean. Mikhail shook his head. 

"There were no pictures, only descriptions. Without going there ourselves to investigate the circle's form and the magical imprint, we have no way of knowing."

"Wait," Mark said slowly, his face paling, "don't... don't tell me we're..."

"Are we seriously...?" Felix trailed off. 

"Yep!" Wiishu crowed, "Strap on your lieder hosen! To the land of the strudel we go!" 

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" Sean hissed.


	9. 9

Anti's POV:

We were just getting into the door to the apartment when a sudden twinge of pain stung my skull, like an electric spark. It felt like... a pull. I whirled to face the east, cocking my head as I zeroed in on the feeling. Yep. No doubt about it; Sean was getting further away, and fast. Judging from the speed, he was probably on a plane. But where...?

"Antioch? What's going on?" Atticus asked in confusion. I ignored him, turning my focus inward instead as I began to quietly search Sean's immediate memory, staying well below his newfound mental radar. Distance was becoming less of an issue as time went on, our connection becoming clearer by the day. 

That's when I had an epiphany so startling that I almost blew my cover. What if SEAN was part of the reason I was going through so drastic a change lately? What if we had both gotten something from the link? He would become more powerful, but I...

I would become more human.

I shook off the troubling thoughts and focused on the task at hand. My existential crisis could wait til later. Now where in the world was the goof troop heading? 

...

My eyes snapped open. I slammed the door to the apartment and began walking down the street so fast I was almost jogging. Atticus actually did have to jog, prompting me to slow down a bit so he wouldn't keel over in the heat.

"W-Wait! Where in the bleeding blazes are you off to now?! Atticus exclaimed, struggling with the bags as we went. I yanked two of them out of his hands so we could go faster. 

"The airport," I responded simply. 

"The airpo- fine. And then?" He asked, sounding resigned. 

"To get some schnitzels."

Virgil's POV:

I lifted my head and glared at the door as it loudly creaked open, flooding the tacky medieval dungeon with a harsh, bright light. I smirked, even though it hurt my bruised lips.

"Well? What's the verdict? Gonna let me take a bath? Do my fabulous hair? Come on, if you're not gonna let me decorate this dreary dump, at least let me redo my guy-liner." 

My head whipped to the side, my right cheek cracking against the wall as my head was nearly bitch slapped off of my neck. I groaned and fell to the side, holding my bleeding cheek. I shook my head to clear those annoying stars from behind my eyes, chuckling a bit through the pain as I gained my sight back. I spat the blood from my mouth before I spoke, grinning cheekily- pun intended- despite my split lip.

"Ooh, kinky. Didn't know you were into that, Dea- ugh!" My speech was suddenly cut short as my neck was grabbed and sqeezed, blocking my airway. I was yanked up so that my legs dangled, my heels kicking uselessly against the wall. 

"I've had it up to here with your shit, you little emo freak," my captor growled, his voice vibrating with the potency of his rage, "But making you choke on your words isn't what I came here to do tonight."

I didn't have the breath to grunt as I was slammed bodily into the wall by my neck before I was abruptly released, allowing me to slide to the floor. The blood that was welling up in my abused throat made it difficult to gasp for air. I glowered up at the bastard as he took a knee by my head. I was gonna wipe that disgusting smirk off of his stupid pretty face, if it was the last thing I did. 

"I came here to tell you that your little friends took the bait," he said quietly, his smirk widening when my scowl tightened. I didn't respond as he stood and walked to the door, chuckling. 

"This is gonna happen, Virgil, whether you like it or not. And soon." He looked back to grin over his shoulder as the door's hinges announced themselves.

"Have fun thinking about that."

With that final jab, the door slammed closed, leaving me alone in complete darkness. 

Well...fuck. 

"I guess that's a no on the eye liner," I muttered, slouching against the wall again.


	10. 9

Jericho's POV:

Oh. My. God. 

"Dark, this is amazing! Why didn't you tell me you had a freaking plane?!" I asked, practically vibrating with excitement. Dark shrugged as he put an arm around my shoulder. 

"You didn't ask. Besides, I'm not one to share. I keep what's mine," he said, murmering the last part darkly into my ear. I blushed. Hard.

"Ugh... here we go again," groaned Mark, slinging his bag onto a couch, "seriously, do felix and I really have to go? I was in the middle of a good game!!" 

"Your energy signatures have all grown significantly in the past month we've travelled together," Amy said matter-of-factly, "so the risk of you attracting a Paranormal predator has gone way up. So unless you want to face a Wraith or Angel on your own..." she shrugged. Felix sighed in resignation as he threw his bag beside Mark's. Mikhail sat down to read a dusty looking relic of a book, pointedly tuning us out.

"Yeah yeah, we get the point. This place have a bar, Dark?" Felix asked hopefully. Dark rolled his eyes.

"At the risk of being an accessory to the murder of the few brain cells you have left, yes, there's a bar with a tv in the back," he confirmed.

"Dope," said Felix, not bothering to react to the jab. He started to follow Mark, Sean, Chica, and Wiishu in that direction before he stopped and looked back at Marzia, who was arranging her armor on the floor to polish it.

"Hey uh, Marzia. Do you wanna go get a drink with us?" He asked in a mumble, scratching the back of his head. Marzia's head shot up in surprise. She blinked, not saying anything for a moment.

"...I...I suppose so..." she said slowly. Felix brightened visibly and ran over to take her by the hand, leading her to the back. I shook my head, laughing at her awkward expression. I stopped laughing when I felt Dark's arms wrap around me from behind. I could feel the heated arousal rolling off of him in waves, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"You know..." He murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, "it's getting a little late. Would you like to see the master bedroom?" 

I shuddered, letting out a little sigh as he nipped my ear lightly. I jumped at a sudden slamming noise to our right. I looked over to see Mikhail glaring at us, book closed in his hands.

"Do you mind?" He asked irritatedly. Dark chuckled. 

"Not at all. Feel free to stay if you wish," he laughed. Mikhail's face turned red as he stood and stormed to the back of the plane. 

"You need to work on your people skills," I said dryly as he crossed his arms around my hips. 

"Not as much as our friend Anti. You could say he's-"

"Dark, I swear to God if the next word you say is 'Antisocial' I'm not sleeping with you for a month," I said flatly. He laughed deeply, letting me feel the rumble of his chest against my back. 

"That's quite a threat. I'd love to see how long you could hold out," he purred, smoothing his hands up and down my hips. Goosebumps rose up along my skin at the contact, and I fought valiantly against a groan. He was right of course; how could anybody resist that?" 

Sensing my thoughts, he chuckled and turned me around to face him, capturing my lips roughly before I could register his intentions. I gave in and moaned into the kiss, soaking him in. I would never get tired of this... 

"Mmm... me neither," Dark purred against my lips with a sigh. Suddenly, I found myself up against the wall, Cornered by Dark's hands on either side of my head. He leaned in close, his red eyes burning into mine. Despite how familiar we were, I couldn't help but sink into the wall behind me, shrinking away from his intense gaze even as I held it. 

Wait.... a wall??

I peeked out from under Dark's arm. We were no longer in the main cabin, but instead in a lavish bedroom of silver, black and red. I slowly looked back up at the now smirking Dark. I opened my mouth and closed it again. 

"Don't question it, love," Dark chuckled.

"This," he said, pulling me to him and pressing his hips to mine, "is the only thing that matters right now."

I hissed as my hands flew up to his shoulders, pulling him closer and putting my head into his neck. Damnit; I was already panting, and my skin was hot. How did he do this to me? Did I have the same effect on him as he did on me?

"Oh, darling... if you only knew," Dark groaned in response to my unasked question, swooping down to meet my lips again. I gasped as he suddenly hefted me up against the wall, wrapping my legs around his hips and supporting me by an arm under my thighs and the pressure from his body. I groaned at the friction as he started to move against me with the same slow, sinful rhythm of his lips. 

Suddenly, I was longer in his arms, but on my back on the bed. I almost whined at the loss of contact when the vision at the end of the bed before me made my breath catch in my throat. 

Dark was there, suit jacket already abandoned on the bed as he loosened his tie. He let it slide slowly from his fingers to the floor before he started in on his shirt buttons, popping them one by one, looking at me hungrily all the while with gleaming garnet eyes. My throat went dry as he  dropped the dress shirt off of his muscled shoulders, revealing his broad chest and- oh.... those abs.

My God, he was beautiful. 

He smirked as he slowly began prowling up the bed towards me, his predator's eyes darkening with unrequited lust. I layed down submissively as he crawled above me, resisting the urge to scoot back. He leaned in close, stretching his perfect body out so that I could see his muscles working under his skin. I swallowed.

"Something wrong, love?" He chuckled, as if he hadn't just intentionally knocked the breath out of me with my own private strip show, "you look a bit... flustered."

I shook my head, wide eyed. Never had I seen him pull all the stops out like this. All I could manage was a dumb, "uhhh..." 

Ugh, it was so unfair! Why couldn't I draw the same reaction out of him? Just once? 

His eyes softened as a slow smile made its way onto his face. He rolled over onto his back beside me before drawing me up so that I sat on top of him, my hands on his chest and our hips pressed flush together. 

"Oh, sweet Jericho... you do. How can you not know how beautiful you are?" He murmured, making me duck my head sheepishly. He reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers stroke down my cheek and neck before sitting up, lifting my gaze to his with a finger under my chin. 

"You are so sweet, so utterly enticing... I find myself thinking about you the entire day," he said, sounding so earnest and sincere that I couldn't help but smile. He returned my expression and leaned in to kiss it, smoothing a hand up my body to my chest, molding my breast with knowing fingers. I moaned, wrapping my arms around him and running my hands through his dark hair as we began to move again, grinding our hips to create a mad friction. 

Then, there was nothing there. It was just skin on skin, smooth and heated, doubling and tripling the intensity of feeling. Eyes locked with his, I lifted myself enough for him to enter slowly, my fingernails digging furrows into his chest and nearly drawing blood as I attempted to steady myself against the onslaught of unadulterated pleasure. He flipped us so that I was beneath him, never withdrawing once.

And then he began to move, slowly pulling back and pushing in, every little movement sending shocks of pure sensation through me that I knew he felt as well; I knew that each of us was experiencing  everything the other was, so that every little bolt of ecstacy cycled between us in an endless circle of pleasure. 

He groaned and began to deepen his movements, stroking deep and long and picking up speed slowly. Too slowly.

"Dark, please," I begged with a moan. If he didn't stop playing with me soon, I was going to come apart at the seams. Dark laughed breathlessly. 

"Resorted to begging have we? How can I deny such a sweet request?" He asked before chuckling darkly and leaning in close.

"Oh right... Very, very easily," he said, supplicating his teasing words with a rough motion that made me cry out from the shock of pleasure that shot through me. 

Despite his words, he apparently couldn't help himself either. Almost involuntarily, his movements became quicker as he growled, losing himself in feral ecstasy. I pushed back against him,  helping us towards the peak.  And oh... what a peak it was. As always, there was nothing in the world like the feelings Dark gave me while I was in his arms. I felt as if I had died and come back again, just barely able to register Dark quickly following me over the crest and groaning his release in my ear. 

Another round later, we lay there, spent and naked in each others arms and complete in our happiness. Nowhere else in the world but by his side did I ever feel so at peace. I nuzzled into his neck, closing my eyes in the after glow. 

"I love you, Dark," I whispered. His arms tightened around me.

"And I you, Jericho."


	11. 11

Amy's POV:

We were all breathless from our constant laughter as we sat around the Television in the center of the plane's posh bar. Mark, remembering the unused TVs on the last two planes, had the foresight to pack a couple movies for the trip. As he went through them, we quickly discovered that Marzia and Mikhail (who had stormed in from the main cabin a couple minutes later and downed a double shot of whiskey) apparently had no cultural awareness whatsoever. It was amazing; I literally lived under rocks for half my life and still had a more expansive knowledge of pop culture than they did. But when the two warriors said they had no idea what Monty Python was... 

Well. Mark was not having that. 

So he popped it in and we all settled down, just as excited about the newbie's reactions as we were about the actual movie. They didn't disappoint; Marzia was practically crying through her giggles while Mikhail had to turn  away multiple times, shielding his face from us as his shoulders silently shook with his muffled laughter. It was nice to see him finally enjoying himself.

"Is it behind the rabbit?"

"It IS the rabbit!"

The line was met with another round of loud guffaws that nearly drowned out the ridiculous screams of the crusaders as they were comically ripped apart by the adorable fanged bunny. I smiled when I saw Felix's arm go around Marzia from the corner of my eye. Sean and Wiishu were way ahead of them. Aw.

Deciding they had the right idea, I walked over to where Mark lounged on one of the couches and promptly ducked under his arm as I turned to sit. He stiffened and choked on his laughter as I leaned onto him, but then relaxed after a moment, allowing himself to enjoy the movie again. I grinned in success as I did the same.

A couple minutes later, the TV screen shorted out, the images freezing and warbling for about five seconds before resuming normally. This was shortly followed by a wave of potent energy that blew through the room like a strong gust of wind in a summer storm. I froze and sprouted an intense blush when I realized exactly what type of energy it was. Oh boy...

"Wha- Jesus, what was THAT?!" Mark exclaimed, leaping to his feet and drawing his sword that he'd recently been learning to use as Sean did the same. 

"Are we being attacked? Where's that coming from?!" Shouted Sean as he brandished his bow threateningly in the air as he searched for the culprit. There was a collective facepalm from everyone else in the group save Felix, who looked around in confusion. 

"Apparently I am not the only one who lives under ground here," snickered Marzia. 

"That's 'under a rock, Madame Elite," sighed Mikhail, earning him a glare. 

"Why are you all laughing?! We could be getting attacked!!" Mark shouted. Sean lowered his bow a bit, his brow furrowing.

"Wait, this... this feels weird..." he said uncertainly. I exchanged an amused glance with Wiishu.

"Should we give our boys the talk?" I asked with a grin. 

Jericho's POV:

I was just drifting off to sleep when two blood curdling shrieks that could have been either male or female jolted me out of my stupor. I might have heard someone laugh loudly as well... Felix? 

Dark's arms tightened as he growled. After a moment, he froze and then relaxed, his chest shaking with silent laughter. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

"Uh... did I just hear-" I began to say before he stopped me with a kiss.

"Don't worry about it, dear."


	12. 12

Atticus' POV:

I'd had it up to somewhere above my head with this rubbish. 

It was utter tosh, the way Antioch just took off without a single bloody word, throwing me for loops and expecting me to follow without question. Not to mention the way he teased me at every opportunity like the evil older step-brother I never wanted. I'd go to spares if this kept up...

"Can you at least tell me why we're going to Munich?" I pleaded as I followed the offending Demon into the noisy airport. He cast a quick glance down at me out of the corner of his eye.

"That'll have to wait, kid. You ask too many questions for me to be able to explain things to you and multitask," he said, without the slightest hint of a smirk or grin. He seemed more absent, more serious than usual, as if something was troubling him. I let it drop, thinking it best not to pry. 

The sea of people parted smoothly around Antioch as he lead me through the crowded facility. I simply chalked that up to his intimidating presence until we cut through the queue for the TSA, walking straight through the metal detectors without them making a sound. Now that was dodgey. 

Confused, I slowed down for a second to examine my surroundings. No one was looking at us or making eye contact, even as they moved to avoid the invisible forcefield that seemed to follow Antioch and I to keep them at a distance.

"Erm...What...?" I started to ask.

"It's a diversion ward with a energy signature sensor," Antioch said over his shoulder, stopping briefly to let me catch up.

"A diversion ward is a type of spell that not only renders any person or place under its power undetectable by any means, but also diverts beings of lesser magic away from the borders of the ward," Anti explained as we began walking again at a more moderate pace. "The reason I didn't have to cast one before we got in here is because this whole airport is one of fifty airports in the states that's under a permanent ward that's choosy about who it serves. It works on me because I'm friendly with the caster and the ward itself has my magical fingerprint memorized." 

I nodded, satisfied with the explanation; it seemed simple enough. I would have to see about a magic book or guide or something of the like so that all of this would be easier to follow. Despite my age, I prided myself on knowing my onions for whatever I was dabbling in. I wondered briefly if I had any sort of magical ability. Did my power extend beyond visions and auras? 

I was once again thrown for a loop when the Demon cut right past the ticket queues without any indication that he intended to board a plane. I followed him as he continued past the lines, slipping by the attendants and behind the ticket counter to stop in front of...

A wall. All there was behind the counter was an unremarkable plain white wall that matched every other wall in the facility. I shot my guide a perplexed look, but stayed silent, deciding to watch instead of ask. 

Antioch lifted a hand and pressed it to the wall palm-down, fingers spread. A strange yellow circle of light about a half a meter in diameter bloomed out from beneath his hand and began spinning slowly as he muttered some words under his breath in a language that sounded more foreign than anything I'd ever come across. My jaw went slack as a portion of the wall ceased to exist, melting away with an echoing hiss to reveal a simple arched entryway about the size of an average door.

Antioch jerked his head towards the newly made opening, stepping away from it.

"You first, kid; we wouldn't want the door slamming behind me and separating us. Or separating your back from your front," he added as an after thought. I shuddered.

I slowly approached the proverbial rabbit hole as the ignorant crowd passed us by, completely unaware of the miracle I was witnessing. Actually, 'miracle' may have been too generous a term. 

All I could make out as I peered nervously into the entrance to God-knows-what was a chilling, hellish blackness. It was the type of darkness that could swallow you whole. I began to shake my head as Antioch sighed in exhasperation and began nudging me forward by pushing my shoulders and lightly kicking my calves when that didn't work, grumbling all the while. After a couple seconds, he sighed again.

"Oh, to hell with it," he muttered. I yelped as he abruptly picked me up by the back of my collar and one of the belt loops on my pants, carrying me the last remaining steps to the opening like a terrified tote bag. 

And then, ignoring my scream, he threw me bodily into the darkness.


	13. 13

Atticus' POV :

I shrieked as I was engulfed by the darkness, bracing myself for the inevitable impact with the floor... that never came. I tentatively opened my eyes one at a time. 

I was still surrounded by pitch, but I was now floating about two meters above a larger version of the circle that had appeared beneath Anti's hand. Extending from this circle were multiple others, each containing some sort of foreign arcane scrawl.

 

For some reason, a random image of a door popped into my head before I shook it away.

Antioch appeared beside me, standing straight up as he hovered in the air as if he was standing on a flat surface while I tried and failed to wrestle myself into an upright position. Antioch smirked. 

"Shadow portals, the Paranormal's elevator. Having trouble?" he asked, making no move to help me. I glared at him as I continued my struggles. When I somehow got myself into a nearly upside down position, I decided to call it quits. 

"Bullocks!" 

Antioch raised an eyebrow and grinned as he observed the angle at which I floated. 

"Well that's gonna be fun to see," he chuckled.

"What-" 

My question devolved into a yelp as I suddenly dropped from the air to land in a painful heap on the suddenly solid floor. I groaned and sat up with a wince, rubbing my aching neck and head as Antioch laughed loudly. 

My beration was caught in my throat as the darkness began to melt away like dripping black paint. A large cavern the size of a soccer stadium was revealed bit by bit as I stood staring agog at the impossibility. It looked ancient and menacing, like the maw of some primordial beast. An eery, sourceless light illuminated the area.

"...Antioch. Where are we?" I asked slowly as I pushed off the ground, forgetting my possible concussion for the moment. He just shushed me and held up a hand. He was focused intently on something in the far off darkness that I couldn't see. A couple seconds passed before he slowly turned around and stared at a point directly above my head. 

Suddenly, a long, thick green vine whipped out from behind my legs and wrapped itself tightly around me from my feet to my elbows, effectively trapping me in place. I shouted and jerked from side to side in an attempt to free myself from the crushing pressure, but had to stop when the vines cut into my skin like thick sand paper. I looked closer. Were those...

Scales?

Mother of God.

"A-Antioch! Hel-mph!" My plea was cut off by a soft but firm hand over my mouth. Antioch ignored me, still staring at whatever was behind me with a bland, unamused look on his face. A dark feminine chuckle behind me made me stiffen. The hand on my mouth removed itself and lighted softly on my shoulder.

"What's this, Antioch? Fresh meat?" My captor purred, "You shouldn't have."

Her voice was a deep croon, laced with a blatant sensuality that made her extremely uncomfortable for me to listen to. I shuddered as her hand squeezed my shoulder. Antioch sighed.

"Is the intimidation routine really necessary, Minthe?" He asked exhasperatedly. Forgetting my situation for a moment, I cocked my head to look in my peripheral vision. 

"Minthe... as in Hades' mistress?" I asked. Minthe chuckled again and lossened her hold on me just a bit. 

"Aw, he's a little scholar! How cute," she cooed. I scowled, my face heating. 

"Minthe. You've had your fun. Now let him go," Antioch said flatly. It clearly wasn't a request. Minthe sighed and retracted whatever she was using to hold me. I scrambled to Antioch's side and turned to see...

 

(Whindill on Deviantart. Check out their portfolio, it's AMAZING.)

I was hardpressed to find words that would adequately describe her beauty. Every muscle was perfectly toned and covered in bronzed skin that looked smooth as silk. Her long, raven black hair flowed down her shoulders in gentle, water-like waves that caught the light in overtones of blue and violet. Her exotic face was regal and queenly, with high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose and elvish, slanted green eyes that shone bright with what could have been malice, mischeif, or a dangerous mixture of both. From the hips up, she was absolute perfection. But there was one thing, just one thing about her that offset me and made me uneasy: 

Her tail. Her ten meter long, deep sea green snake's tail that writhed slowly on the ground beneath her, each individual scale glinting as they caught the light in turn. 

"Blimey," I whispered, making the woman smirk. Antioch chuckled and cleared his throat, prompting me to turn my attention to him. 

"Atticus, meet Minthe. She's a-" 

"A Naga. A Naga, I know," I interrupted, shaking off my shock. His eyebrows shot up. 

"And just how did you know that?" He asked, clearly impressed. I just shrugged.

"I know my mythology," I said simply. I was almost insulted that he would think otherwise. We turned back to the Naga in question when she conspicuously cleared her throat. She looked agitated, glaring at Anti with a peeved expression.

"You know, the last time I saw that cute face of yours, it wasn't as pleasant as our other.... trysts," she said in a quiet hiss, narrowing her eyes. Antioch stood his ground with a slightly amused expression when she slithered over and sidled up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her... erm... generous chest into his as she coiled her tail around his legs once. I stumbled back and looked away, blushing my arse off. 

Antioch casually returned her embrace with a smirk, happily reciprocating when she pressed her lips to his. I covered my eyes and turned away.

And I thought I was scarred before...

Anti's POV:

I chuckled into the kiss as Atticus blushed and whirled around, giving of a powerful wave of embarrassment. I pulled back slightly and broke away from her, deciding to give the poor kid a break. I smirked down at Minthe as she gave me an exagerated pout and hung off of me in a sulk. 

"Oh, come now Anti," she whined, "don't I deserve something for the trouble your vessel caused me? I even sent him to Dark's place instead of yours..."

I cocked an eyebrow and kept still as she leaned in so that I could feel her sweet breath on my lips. I ran my hands slowly from her shoulders to the small of her back, letting them linger on her smooth skin before reluctantly dropping them to my sides. 

"Sorry, sweet heart. As much as I wish I could stay and play, I'm afraid it's strictly buisness this time," I said, making my intentions clear. At this, Minthe's pout turned into a glare.

"Ugh. You're no fun anymore! I haven't had a decent meal in months! And you... you taste wonderful..." she crooned, stroking her hands down my chest. I could feel the dangerous power of her seductive pheromones on her breath brush my skin and fill my lungs as she spoke. Damn, the little minx certainly wasn't making this easy, was she? I could feel myself being drawn like a magnet to her hunger...

Suddenly, a little cough sounded from off to the side. I turned my head to see that Atticus had removed himself further from us and was currently shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, his back still turned.

Oh. Right.

Mentally slapping myself in the face (and some other troublesome  parts of my body), I gingerly took hold of her wrists and lowered them back to her sides. Her scowl returned and darkened. She wrenched her hands away and crossed her arms.

"Why? Is it because of the kid?" She asked, shooting a catty peeve in Atticus' direction. Atticus turned his head slightly over his shoulder, but didn't look directly at us. Minthe narrowed her eyes at him, taking a deep breath through her delicate nose.

"This smell... he's human, isn't he? What is this child to you?" She asked slyly. She began to unwind from me and turn fully to him. My hand shot out to roughly grab her wrist, halting her movement.

"Don't," I commanded flatly, my wildly flaring aura betraying the threat behind my calm words. I was vaguely surprised at how quickly I'd gotten worked up. 

Minthe's eyes widened considerably as her catty scowl was quickly overwritten by fear. She hissed and wrenched her hand back, slithering away to a comfortable distance, her wounded pride clearly visible on her beautiful face. I moved to stand closely in front of Atticus, my back facing his. I felt a wave of gratitude and relief from him that I quickly brushed off; touchy feely shit wasn't really my forte.

"Now," I said, keeping my voice and expression carefully blank,

"Let's talk transport."


	14. 16

Wiishu's POV:

"Unhand me, you ridiculous witch!" Dark growled, grabbing my calf off of his shoulder and shoving it backward. I leaned into the motion, using my leverage on Amy and Mikhail's shoulders to push myself into a back bend, kicking my legs up and over my head to land gracefully a couple feet behind them with a cheeky grin on my face. 

"Wouldn't un- foot be the technical term?" I asked. Dark started forward with a growl, but Mikhail stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. He shot me a warning look that I returned with an innocent smile.

"We have more important things to worry about right now," the old man grumped, "Like the reason that the House just happened to gather here, unannounced, at the same time we arrived."

That sobered me up. 

"Well, that explains the weird vibes at least. The mixed signals from all those clashing paranormal auras must be driving the humans around here nearly insane with anxiety," I said, frowning, "the poor people probably don't even know what they're afraid of."

"Do you suppose they have something to do with the dark rite?" Dark asked, "it would be grossly out of character, but...." he trailed off. Mikhail's usual frown deepened at the implication that we might have more than Fell on our tail. 

"...I Don't know," the old knight sighed after a moment, "there are so many things I don't know. Maybe it was Fell. Maybe it was the house. Maybe both. But the first question we need to answer is what exactly that rite was for. Signe," he said, holding out a hand. I nodded grimmly, conjuring my staff and holding it outward for everyone to grab on. 

"Really. You couldn't have done this the first time?" Dark asked as he roughly placed his hand above mine. I shrugged, shooting him a wink before closing my eyes and concentrating on the task at hand. 

And... poof.

Jericho's POV

"Ugh, jet lag," groaned Sean as he threw himself face down on the bed nearest the door. Mark, Chica and I filed in after him, chuckling at his state as we set our bags down. Felix and Marzia had already gotten their own room and pointedly shut us out. I didn't mind; I knew the feeling.

I'm a dog. How am I taking this better than you? Chica thought at Sean with a laugh. 

"A talking dog. But whatever," Sean mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. Chica leapt up on the bed and curled up next to him with a yawn, laying her head on his back with a huff.

Well, stay down. You make a good pillow.

"I'm so glad she learned english," I said with a grin to Mark. He smiled back and was about to reply when a loud whip-like crack sounded in the room, making us all jump about a foot in the air. Chica and Sean leapt up at once, crossbow and hackles raised. Mark and I drew our swords. 

There across the room from us  was... something I was definitely not expecting. 

"Well well well..."

Her voice was high and sweet sounding, with an innocent, angelic timbre that would have made me trust her without question in less sketchy circumstances. But seeing as she had just teleported into the room...

 

She was probably the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. She couldn't have been older than six or seven; Her almond shaped eyes shone a sparkling arctic blue above an adorable little button nose. Her skin was smooth and flawless, a twitch of youthful mischieve dancing at the corners of her pink lips. I had come so close to putting down my weapon when her glittering gaze turned to me, causing me to tense. There was something about her eyes...

"Hello there, Jericho," she chimed with a sweet smile. She even did a cute little curtsey, dipping her head formally before beaming at me once again.

"It's such a pleasure."

"Who are you?" I asked slowly as I tightened my grip on my sword, "And what do you want?" 

Her smile didn't change. 

"Just to see you all in person to see what all the fuss is about," she said, "we've all been so anxious to meet you, you know. The outsiders." For just a split second, her voice transitioned into a cold hiss at the end before the sun returned to her face.

"What do you mean, outsiders?" Mark demanded sharply. Chica's chest-deep growls boiled over as she snarled at the girl, shaking her head and pawing the ground in a show of distrust and hostility. Yeah, no; if there was anything I trusted, it was Chica's instincts. This girl wasn't a friend. 

"But where are the others?" The child continued as if Sean hadn't spoken, her bright eyes scanning the room, "I was told there were more of you..." 

"There are... but they aren't here," Sean said slowly. Mark, Chica and I all shot him sharp looks with varying levels of 'wtf,' but he just ignored us, keeping his eyes trained on the girl. The bead of sweat creeping slowly down his brow didn't escape my notice. What did the seasoned hunter know that we didn't that was making him so uneasy?

"And where might they be, Hunter?" She asked, maintaining her amicable tone despite the tense atmosphere. 

"They went to check out the site of the sacrifice on the outskirts of Munich," Sean said, "They won't be back soon."  
Damn did he ever have a good poker face. She cocked her head, considering his words. And then...she smiled. Really smiled, opening her lips for the first time to showcase her perfect white teeth. And her fangs.

Two gleaming, wickedly sharp fangs protruded from her gums at the corners of her now vicious grin. Any trace of amnity in her expression was long gone, replaced by a stone cold hardness that had no business on the face of such a beautiful child. It only took me a split second to figure out exactly what had Sean so anxious. She was a Vampire.   
And according to Dark's lessons...

Vampires always, always traveled in packs.

We had no way of knowing how many superpowered devil children were outside the hotel. It could have been anywhere from five to twenty. Past five or six though, it wouldn't matter; we weren't equipped for anything more than a one on one ratio against such overpowered enemies. 

I understood what Sean was doing then. If we were going to be killed or taken- and without the other four members of our group, this would go one of those two ways- it would be better to keep Felix and Marzia out of it if we could. 

"You're lying, Sean..." the Beautiful child chimed, "but this matters not. It is unfortunate, but you will suffice for now."

Her already sinister smile twisted into a hateful sneer as she spoke. We all tensed as she lifted her hand slowly and snapped her fingers. 

Four diminutive blurs suddenly burst through the door, rushing us in a matter of milliseconds. I didn't have the time to even twitch my sword arm before they were upon us. I felt an immense pressure on the back of my head and neck and was imediately paralyzed, collapsing bonelessly to the floor and dropping my sword with a clatter.  Though I couldn't turn my head to look, similar thumps and clangs told me that my friends had met the same fate. I felt a sharp pain shoot up my spine, and my world faded to black.


	15. 14

Atticus's POV:

I could deal with Antioch's regular shenanigans. But that?  Bloody Hell, I couldn't even legally see an R Rated film at the cinema yet! 

But at least it was over.

...

...Oh, who was I kidding?! That scene was burned into my ears and eyelids! Lord, I was scarred for life! More than before, anyway. I had been trying to purge my mind of the disturbing experience for the past ten minutes we'd been on this... whatever this was. 

It basically looked like the inside of a black, shadowy semisphere approximately ten by ten meters with fifteen plush armed seats around the perimeter of the small space. The sphere had appeared with a glare and a snap of the Naga's fingers after Antioch told her our destination. Antioch and I now sat on opposite sides.

The last words we'd exchanged were him informing me that the trip would take about an hour. I had just nodded.

Ten awkward minutes into our silent ride, I was picking my poor  fingernails into oblivion and refusing to look in his direction. Anti cleared his throat conspicuously once, and then twice when I pointedly ignored his efforts. He sighed.

"I'm not gonna have to give you the talk, am I?" He asked, amusement and exhasperation both present in his tone. I shot him a glare at that. 

"No. I got the gist from an anatomy textbook I checked out from the library two years ago. Though after this unfortunate debacle, I can say with all honesty that the whole affair is far more unpleasant in person," I said with a shudder that I couldn't repress.

"Oh come on, it was just a kiss!" Antioch scoffed. I rolled my eyes.

"And you somehow managed to make it no less disgusting than the actual act," I said dryly,  "Congratulations. How do you do it?"

Antioch just chuckled. 

"Whatever, you'll learn."

"Not from a dracophiliac like you, if I can help it," I quipped.

"Ha ha, very funny. Don't quit your day job. Now, shall we continue?" He asked.

"What?" I asked, confused. He twirled a hand in the air. 

"Your story. We've got a little under an hour, we might as well make the most of it. Maybe it'll take your mind off of the..." he waved a hand through the air again with a smirk. I sighed.

"Fine."

Atticus' POV, Two years prior in Tomatin, Scotland. 

Finally. 

We made it. 

We were pulled up in the parking lot of the first McDonald's we'd seen in the borders of Tomatin in our newly aquired minivan, chowing down on some well deserved celebratory chicken nuggets. It seemed to be all we ate these days. Not that any of us minded. 

"So what now?" Asked sarah through a mouthful. I avoided rolling my eyes with great effort. I was living with animals. 

"Yeah, where to now?" Parroted Solomon. They both looked at me. My eyebrows shot up.

"Don't look at me! How would I know?" I asked. 

"Well you're the oldest, so that makes you the leader," sarah said with a shrug. I scowled.

"What kind of logic is that?" I scoffed. They still looked at me expectantly. Seeing the pointlessness of the conversation, I sighed. 

"Well, the first thing we need to worry about is finding a place to life besides a car. This is fine for now, but eventually we'll need to settle somewhere. The next thing is water and food, which means money..." I looked at the couple of quid we had left from our latest heist, "...which we don't have a lot of," I finished with another weary sigh. What were we getting ourselves into? We were children, for Christ's sake; we didn't stand a chance. 

"Maybe we could get jobs?" Sarah supplied brightly, "I could work at McDonald's!" I smiled despite myself at how adorable she was.

"I don't think that will pan out, Rosy. I don't think we're qualified to take on a deep fryer," I chuckled as Sarah pouted.

"I could do it!" She protested. 

"Aaaaanyway," said Solomon with a grin and an eyeroll, "I think we need baths too."

"You just now noticed this? We haven't washed in days!" I said, wrinkling my nose at the thought. We'd been washing our important bits with paper towels in restaurant bathrooms of questionable sanitation for six days straight. 

After fifteen minutes of brainstorming (which was apparently the longest Sarah could focus on one subject at a time), we came up with nothing. We couldn't go to a homeless shelter because of the obvious safety hazards there and the fact that our faces were all over the news. We couldn't get jobs. We couldn't do anything without jeopardizing our freedom. 

...Bullocks.

Jericho's POV, present day:

"...Mark, are you sure you guys are okay?" I asked again to the back of the boy's heads. 

We were all sitting buckled in our chairs. Mark, felix and sean were all sitting in front of me, Chica in Mark's lap. There were some mixed responses to my question. 

Mark glanced at me briefly over his shoulder before shrugging and quickly turning his eyes away again. Sean didn't even turn around, so all I could see was the beet-red back of his neck. Felix was the only one that actually turned around. 

"Yeah, we're good," he said pleasantly with a slight smirk before breaking into a full blown shit-eating grin, "how's that afterglow? OW! Damnit Chica, let go!" He yelped as chica chomped down on his fingers with a crunch. 

Dark chuckled and put an arm around me as I stared at them in confusion. Okay...? 

"I wouldn't trouble yourself with them right now Miss Winters," said Mikhail with an amused look on his face, "Mark and Sean are still figuring out their new found powers. Quite a stressful affair." 

This was met with quiet chortles from everyone but Mark and Sean, who blushed and scooted down lower in their seats. I opened my mouth only to snap it shut again, shaking my head. I wouldn't question it this time. 

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Munich was not what I expected,  especially for such a famous city at high noon. The streets of the Bavarian city were nearly empty, as if three quarters of the people had disappeared overnight. The few people who were out and about were oddly subdued, glancing from side to side and keeping their shoulders hunched as they walked quickly down the street as if they were being followed. Even the airport had been quiet, too quiet.

"Dark... what's going on?" I whispered. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

"..."

"Oh, is it because of the murders?" I asked. That was most likely it, I thought. The people were probably just scared. But Dark shook his head. 

"...No. There is something going on here, and it does have something to do with the slaughter, but that's just a part of it. Mikhail! A word, please," called Dark, slowing down to make his way to the back of the group. I shook my head. Really? Weren't Dark and I too close for secrets at this point? My brow furrowed when I heard Mikhail call for a halt. 

"Miss Winters. There is a little motel a couple blocks south of here called the 'Novotel Munchen.' If you and the others would be so kind as so meet us there-"

"Wait! And where are you guys going?" Felix exclaimed irrately as Wiishu and Amy walked over to join the two elders at Mikhail's beckoning. 

"There are things we need to check on. Not to worry,  we will be back shortly," said Mikhail before whispering something to Wiishu. Before that, she had looked just as stumped as the rest of us, but what ever Mikhail said made her eyes widen like saucers. She immediately grabbed Mikhail and Amy by the shoulders and slung a foot up onto Dark's shoulder before they all disappeared in a burst of soft rose light. 

I blinked.

"Why'd he leave you in charge?" Mark whined with a pout. Felix nudged his shoulder, laughing. 

"Because of that," he chuckled,  "Lead the way, Jay."

I smiled despite how uneasy I was, laughing and joking with the others as we went. Everything was fine...

Right?

Anti's POV,  Present day:

"So for the next year, that's what we did," Atticus finished. I cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. 

"...You can't be serious," I said flatly. He just nodded.

"So you just went around stealing shit and living out of a damn car. For a year." I repeated, just to make sure I had it right. 

"Well... not exactly," Atticus admitted, "about four months in, we met-" 

He was cut off suddenly by a strong whooshing sound as the Comet (Slang for a shadow carrier) broke apart around us, sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap for the second time in as many hours. I simply levitated in a sitting position before standing straight up and floating to the ground. The  suitcase we'd bought from the airport before we left to stuff Atticus' new clothes in appeared on the ground beside me as he picked himself up. I looked around to find that we had materialized in an alley. Good. No witnesses to brain. 

"Bloody hell...." Atticus groaned, rubbing his hip, "what just happened?"

"We arrived. Welcommen to Germany," I said, walking out towards the street. That's when it got weird.

Munich was a virtual ghost town, nothing like the bustling city it was made out to be. Granted, we were in the outer reaches from what I could tell, but still, this couldn't be normal. 

"What's going on?" Atticus asked me in a hushed whisper, forgetting his pain for a moment. I didn't answer at first, narrowing my eyes at the still life city. What was this weird energy in the air? It was like a whole bunch of different... 

Oh. 

Oh shit.

My eyes widened when it hit me. 

"It's the House."


	16. 15

Virgil's POV:

Ah, fuck. There was that fucking creak again. I sighed and hung my head. I was so. Done. Who would it be this time? His royal prissiness? Violent violet? Another stale bread roll? Had my daddy dearest finally decided to show his face?

C'mon. Hit me.

"...G-Gillie? Is that you?" Came a quiet, sweet, familiar voice from the door. My head shot up towards the silhouette in the doorway as she peered into the room. I couldn't see any of her features, but there was no way I wouldn't recognize the voice of my own baby sister.

"Wha- Virgo! What are you doing here? Go back to your chambers, Father would kill you if he saw you in the dungeons!" I hissed. She ignored me, closing the door quickly and rushing to kneel at my side in the darkness as soon as she heard my voice. I felt her trembling hands on my scraped and swollen cheeks, felt one of them worry at my once fabulous hair. 

"Oh... oh Virgil, what did they do to you?" She whispered shakily. I could hear tears in her voice. Damnit, I always hated it when she cried. I put my hands over hers. 

"Oh, come on, I've had worse," I said softly, trying my best to put a smile in my tone. She laughed sadly and hugged me gently, making my black and purple heart twist in sympathy. She was always so compassionate, a rarity among our kind. She was the only one I ever regretted leaving.

"I just came to tell you that the outsiders are here. They're here in Munich!" Virgo said urgently as she pulled back. I cocked my head at her in the darkness. 

"The... the who?" 

"Oh sorry, the outsiders... That's what everyone has been calling the group you were travelling with these past few weeks," she clarified, patting my cheek, "they seem like nice people."

Wow. We had a name. Dope. 

"I know they're here, his royal ass came in personally to tell me. Do you know why they were lured here, though? Do they know I'm here?" I asked. 

"...No. I'm sorry Virgil, but as far as I know, they still think you're dead," she said sadly, "their attention was drawn to Munich by a sacrificial ceremony that led to the death of fifty humans. And it's because the houses want to see them, want to know who they are and whether they are a threat."

I jerked away in surprise.

"Wait, I thought it was just the Djinn house that was doing this to get back at me!" I exclaimed, "why the fuck would all of them stage a fake rite just to-" 

"Virgil! Language," she scolded, "And it wasn't fake; it did have a secondary purpose, one that only the Demon King is privy to. Father is the only King who knows it wasn't faked, but even he doesn't know exactly what the sacrifice was for. The only reason I know this is because I heard father and King Dea-" 

Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the door, down the hall. I grabbed her shoulders urgently.

"Virgo! Virgo, you have to go," I hissed, "If they catch you down here talking to me, they'll-" 

"I know. I'll go, but I'm coming back. I'm going to get you out Gillie, I promise!" She vowed, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before dissolving and disappearing to an unknown location,  probably slipping through a crack in the wall. 

Not two seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a tall, caped silhouette. I could feel his cold eyes on me as he approached slowly, those damn shoes he always wore echoing ominously against the stone floor of my prison. He stopped in front of me. 

"...Virgil."

I glared back up at him with all the venom I could muster.

"Father."


	17. 17

Felix's POV: 

BAM. THUD. THUD. CRASH.

....silence.

My head shot up from Marzia's chest, my skull clocking against the bottom of her chin and causing her jaw to snap shut with a click.

"Agh... what was that??" Marzia hissed, rubbing her sore jaw with a wince. I threw back the covers, detangling myself from her so we could both leap out of the bed. I yanked my guns out of my bag as Marzia fumbled with her shirt. I sent a quick curse heavenward for my unlucky love life before easing the door open and sidling up to the frame, staying out of sight of whatever might be in the hallway until Marzia dressed. I was delighted to find that she had no qualms about fighting in underwear and a t-shirt when the need arose. Awesome.

I shook those thoughts out of my head with difficulty, pointedly forcing myself to maintain eye contact instead of drooling over her impressively toned legs when she put her back to the other side of the door frame across from me. It was not the time. Well not anymore at least. I was just about done with this Paranormal cock-blocking blue ball bull shit.

My self pity party was crashed when Marzia held up an open hand with her palm facing me, clenching it into a loose fist in the classic 'wait' gesture that all the badasses use in action movies. We shot into motion at a sharp flick of her fingers, leaping out of the doorway to stand back to back in our favored stances, sword staff and guns raised. 

After a few silent moments, we slowly lowered our weapons. There wasn't really a point in having them drawn at the ready when there was nothing but thin air to fight. I holstered my guns and turned to Marzia with narrowed eyes.

"The others," I said shortly, trying to keep my voice steady despite my frayed nerves. She tensed as well as she immediately caught my meaning; Those noises we heard were concussive enough that nearly the entire building should have heard it. Everyone else in our crew was just two rooms down from us, so there was no possible way they missed that, and no way they would have ignored it. So if they hadn't run their asses out into the hallway by then to see what was up... my stomach executed a flawless triple axel as my scumbag brain automatically jumped to the worst assumption. If I walked into that room and they were all... if they just... 

I didn't know what I would do. 

"H-Hello?" 

Marzia and I both whirled around at the soft greeting, whipping our weapons out again to deal with the possible threat.

"Eep!" 

 

In any other situation, everything about this chic's reaction would have been funny. The ridiculous squeek, the way her eyes widened into saucers, how her hands went straight up into the air like she was a mime... priceless, really. And kind of cute. 

But I wasn't in the mood for cute. 

"Are you with whoever just held a twenty one gun ceremony a couple doors down?" I asked the teen coldly, threatening with confidence. From what I had seen in this town, all the normal humans had a case of yellow fever. This Chic looked fine and dandy. Conclusion? Not human. 

"What? N-No! No, o-of course not!" She stuttered, anxiously eyeing the sword staff at her throat. 

"Well then who are you?" Marzia snapped, her voice ten times more terrifying than normal, "Speak out!" 

"That's speak up, Marzia," I said flatly, earning myself a glare that I gladly ignored, "now speak up, kid."

"Oh! Um, well okay... um, first I just wanna say that your friends aren't dead, they were just taken. I hope that helps," the girl said, twisting her hair nervously. I raised a single eyebrow instead of jumping up and down and wooping like I wanted to. 

"That does help. But what it doesn't do is explain why you are here and why you sought us out," I said. She started twisting her hair on the other side of her face. Was that a nervous tic or something? 

"I need your help. Or at least my brother does. I don't know anyone else who would help me save him," she said, looking down sadly.

"So you decide to ask two strangers?" I asked, "Really?"

"You're not strangers to me, though. Any friend of Virgil's is a friend of mine!" She declared happily. Marzia and I froze. I cocked my guns that were still aimed for her head after a second, making the blood drain from her face. 

"Virgil is dead, sweetheart," I said coldly, my voice steady as a rock, "how did you know him?"

"H-He's my b-brother," she squeaked, her voice cracking under the pressure of have two guns and a sword trained on your face. 

"Virgil's... sister? He had a sister?" I asked incredulously. 

"But you just said that you needed us to help you save your brother, did you not?" Asked Marzia, confused.

"Yeah, if you're not talking about Virgil, then who...?" 

"I am talking about Virgil!!" She shouted, stamping her foot with a comical pout that almost made me laugh again. Her next words, however, did not. 

"My name is Virgo Sanders, and my brother Virgil is alive!!"


	18. 18

Dark's POV:

We had to travel the last three   
Miles to our destination on foot so as to minimize our magical footprint and avoid any prying eyes. 

When we arrived at the field, it was not what I expected at all. There were no humans in the area, so I suspected a diversion ward had already been laid over the area. was so large that Signe and I had to view it from the air to get the full picture, I in my shadow form and she with her magic. The  dark magic circle, a whopping quarter mile in diameter, was burned into the grass deeper and more harshly than was the norm. The earth itself was torn in some places, as if the markings were seared into the ground by a great flaming sword rather than a caduceus or a steady hand. This ritual, whatever its purpose, was one of the most powerful I had ever seen.

Even more troubling was the rancid after-taste that stained the air alongside the stench of old blood. The residual magic hanging over the site was so hazy that I seriously doubted that there was any one perpetrator. There were at least five distinct magical signatures that I could sense, maybe more.

"Perhaps the House is behind this," I thought to Signe as we poured over the crime scene, "there is definitely more than one species of paranormal that I can sense... and not one of them is Fell."

"Yeah, it's a possibility," she agreed, floating to my side, "but why? I've never seen this type of activity from the house before."

I snorted.

"What type of activity? We don't even know what this rite was meant for," I pointed out. She simply nodded absently, puzzling over the scarred ground below. I did the same, though I wasn't sure how much it would help. I had never seen this brand of magical scrawl before. And the titanic scale of this particular event was absolutely unheard of. 

What in the blazes was going on?

Dark! Dark, don't...! 

I whipped my head towards the source of Mikhail's psychic cry to see that he had disappeared, along with Amy. 

"MIKHAIL! AMY!" shouted Signe in alarm. We both shot toward the ground, bridging the gap in a matter of seconds. I snarled, reforming with my axe and armor already summoned. I could feel at least fifteen signatures in the area, maybe more. This wasn't good. 

"What is the meaning of this?! Show yourselves!!" I roared, scanning the empty field intently. I tensed as a chorus of laughter echoed from multiple unseen sources. 

"Dark-" 

I turned at Signe's scream, shocked to see that she, too, had vanished. I growled menacingly, flaring my aura to its full potential. To my infinite satisfaction, the laughter stopped abruptly. I waited and watched closely for the slightest movement.

"...Impressive, Blood King. You certainly live up to your reputation."

The voice was soft and seductive and undeniably feminine. My eyes narrowed at the playful, mocking tone. 

"And does my adoring fan have a name?" I quipped. There was another lascivious chuckle before a pocket of air not fifteen feet ahead of me shimmered and fell away like a delicate gossamer veil, revealing a short, slender form.

 

She was little more than four feet tall, with black skin and platinum hair. Her outfit was provocative and narcissistic, blatantly insinuating some sort of lofty social status. The diminutive female smirked. 

"The Morrigan of the western Unseelie tribes, Abbadon Orusula. Such a pleasure to finally make your aquaintance, King; I've heard so much about you," the Dark Elf purred.

"I'm afraid I can't say the same," I said dryly, "but something tells me that menial introductions aren't the reason you came here today."

She gave me a taunting grin that made me feel uneasy. 

"No, I'm afraid not," she chuckled. She lifted a hand before her face and snapped. Twelve invisibility wards deactivated around me, each one revealing another Elf behind it. My expression darkened at the sight of the three Elves nearest the Morrigan. Signe, Mikhail and Amy were on their knees before the creature's small forms, looking peeved about the knives at their throats. After a tense moment, I slowly lowered my weapon to the ground, scowling at the triumphant Morrigan all the while. 

"What. Do you want," I growled. Unfortunately, I never recieved an answer.

The last thing I saw before I lost conciousness was her smile.


	19. 19

Atticus' POV: 

"The House? What are you on about?" I asked, retrieving my suitcase that I'd dropped. I returned to his side and stopped short at the deadly serious look on his face. His head was tilted slightly up as he stared of into space, deep in thought. I let him be for about two minutes, but that was all I could take.

"Antioch. What's going on?" I demanded. He finally turned his eyes on me and was quiet for a moment as I waited impatiently. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. 

"Come on. I'll explain on the way."

With that, he once again turned and walked away. I sighed and followed, used to his antics by now. 

"And may I ask where we are off to?" I inquired. 

"We have one more errand to run," he said before looking back to smirk at me. 

"We need to get you a suit."


	20. 20

Virgil's POV: 

"Hello, father," I said, spitting the word at him like it was a bullet. He just gave a noncommittal hum in response before falling silent for about half a minute as we stared each other down. Finally, I couldn't take anymore.

"Well?" I snapped, "What the hell do you want, old man? I might have all day, but the last thing I want to do is spend it with you."

His silhouette stiffened as if he was about to rebuke me (just like the good ol' days) before letting loose a long-suffering sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose instead.

"Is that any way to address your father, Virgil?" He asked. Righteous indignation flared inside me at his careless use of the F word.

"Father," I scoffed quietly, lowering my gaze and shaking my head with a bitter half-laugh. When I lifted my head, I made sure to throw every ounce of rage and murderous intent that I felt towards him into my glare. 

"Father? Father?!" I bellowed, my  words thunderous in the tiny prison, "What father? I never had one! I only got a king who trusted a vindictive fucking rumour over his OWN FLESH AND BLOOD!" 

The accusation hung suspended in the stale air long after I was done, the echo of the cold stone walls hanging over our heads like a guillotine. It took a sec for the reverb to finally die down. I stared at the old king as I caught the breath I spent in my outburst, daring him to refute my statement. His voice was an emotionless monotone when he finally responded. 

"...It was disproven, Virgil. You were absolved." 

I couldn't believe this shit.

"But only after that whore you called an advisor admitted what I had been telling you for years!" I shouted, my heart clenching painfully at the memory of the punishment I had to endure as a result of her lies. Even after odette confessed and my sentence ended, the feeling of emptiness and isolation remained. Even now as I sat shackled before my Father half a century later, my real prison was inside my head. My sentence never really ended. 

"I begged you! I told you over and over that it wasn't my fault! Virgo was the only one who listened!" I gritted my teeth at the thought of my sweet sister. 

"Do you know what she must have gone through? She has more empathy and compassion than all of us combined. It killed her to see what went down between us! And what did she get for being a loving sister? She got shunned. Ridiculed. Discraced. And you. Did. Nothing."

Apparently, 'nothing' was still his forte after all these years if his five minute long silence was anything to go by. Some things never changed. 

"If you've got nothing better to do than gaze at my beautiful face all afternoon, at least get me some eyeliner," I sneered. It was a good sign that I had at least retained enough chill for sarcasm. I just wasn't me without my sass. 

"Virgil..." he drew out my name,  his tone warning. 

"Daddyyyy," I mocked, making my tone sound borderline sexual just for the satisfaction of seeing him cringe. 

"Oops. Little red in the face, are we?" I snickered, "I mean, you already fucked me royally more times than I can count, so we might as well make it officia-"

"ENOUGH!" 

My mouth closed with an audible snap as he conjured and flared his royal purple aura, making his power known. I pursed my lips to hold back my smile.

How cute. He thinks he can still scare me.

"I had hoped to reconcile our differences today," he said, his anger palpable, "but it's clear that you are still too stubborn."

I had to laugh.

"Uh, and who's fault is that? You can't lock your own son away for half a century and expect him to willingly go along with whatever bullshit power scheme you've currently got in the works. So what's the real reason I'm here, father?" I asked, my smile evaporating into a sneer, "his royal ass already told me his."

The head of the House of the Djinn regarded me silently for a moment longer before turning and stalking to the door, his ostentacious cape flapping behind him. He thought it was menacing, but I always thought it made him look like a retarded raven. He turned back when he reached the threshold. 

"...I know, Virgil. About your power."

My triumphant smile froze as my blood turned to ice. 

"What do you mean?"

He didn't answer for awhile. Eventually, he stepped out and slammed the door, leaving me in complete darkness once more.

Like it or not, you will submit,  Virgil,"  his voice rang in my head as his boots clacked down the corridor. I shot him a mental 'fuck you' along with the image of two raised middle fingers. I also shot two birds of my own at the wall in his general direction just for my own benifit. 

Eventually though, I let my arms fall, dropping my gaze to the floor to follow them. 

Of course the reason for dragging me back to this hell would be for his own personal gain. Of. Fucking. Course. But he wasn't going to bend me. Never again. 

He'd have to kill me first.


	21. 21

Dark's POV:

When next I opened my eyes, I was met with a remarkable and  unexpected sight above the bed I laid on. The gargantuan materpiece that filled my vision was absolutely breathtaking, so much so that I found myself pushing my recent ordeal aside for the moment to better savor the display.

An earth-rending battle of epic proportions raged across the arc of the domed ceiling high above my head. There were countless species caught up in the chaotic  fray, some of which I found I  couldn't put a name to. The raw passion and feral ecstasy of combat was present in every inch  of the intricate tableu, adding an element of such stunning realism that I half expected the scene to burst into motion at any moment. The resplendent majesty of the opus above outmatched the mural in my own mansion by far. 

"The Millennia Wars," an unknown voice supplied in the silence. I hissed in both surprise and displeasure at having been caught off my guard, dissolving and reforming immediately in a standing position with my axe in hand. 

"Who are you?" I growled, "and why did you bring me here?" 

"It's rumored that the artist, whatever species, was imprisoned here for sixty years. They were allowed one request, and that was to paint," the woman standing across the room said conversationally as she gazed at the ceiling, her voice calm and serene. I narrowed my eyes; She looked incredibly familiar. 

 

"But as a part of his punishment, his cruel captor never gave him any red paint," she continued, "So any blood you see here..."

"Is supposedly his own," I finished, relaxing a bit when I was sure she didn't mean to attack, "seems a bit far out for my tastes."

"And why is that?"

"There's a lot of blood," I chuckled. She smiled at my laugh. 

"He did have sixty years."

"Still."

I dissolved my stuffy armor, but kept my axe; I could feel no anger or bitterness from her, so she was either pure or very, very good at hiding her intentions. And when it came to hiding from me, no one was that good.

"Who are you?" I asked again. Her smile dropped slightly.

"...Valentine Sanders. Elder sister to Virgil Sanders."

 

Just to recap:   
Virgo: younger sister.  
Violet: twin to virgil  
Valentine: older sister


	22. 22

Atticus's POV:

"A suit? Why would I need a suit?" I asked incredulously. At the same time, I had to admit I was a little giddy at the prospect. Such luxuries were unheard of in a life like the one I led.

"Because we're going to a ball. Come on," said Anti as he turned away to walk down the empty street, jerking his head to indicate that I should follow. To my relief, he didn't stop his explanation there:

"The House is a group of paranormal representatives from a couple different species, namely those that eat humans. The number of representatives and the system of choosing them depends on the species. For example, Unseelie Elves take volunteers that fight to the death for it, while Seelie elves are smart and just vote. There are royal families of both the Djinn and Vampires, while the Mermaids simply go by age. It's pretty hard to grasp unless you've been in the politics of it your entire life."

I silently considered his words for a moment. 

"And what's the point of this, 'House?'" I asked finally. He shrugged.

"Survival, mainly. The humans have the Resistance to do population checks and maintain the balance, and the Paranormals have the house," he said, "humans are dangerous creatures; we needed a defense against their defense."

"But all of you are so powerful. At least, the few of you that I've seen," I ammended, reminding myself how little I truly knew about this previously unseen world that I was suddenly a part of. Antioch shrugged. 

"Power, yes. We have that in spades. What we don't have is unity.  
For many of us, regardless of the species, that same power and standing is our singular goal in life. We want control. We want to rule for the sake of ruling." 

"But so do some humans."

"Ah, but only some," he said, raising his index finger before pointing it at me, "You, all the billions and billions of you across the globe, are more powerful because you work together, you understand each other. Sure, there are always gonna be the one-percenters that fuck up humanity's rep, but they're just that- the one percent."

He shook his head and chuckled.

"In my experience, if a human sees you beaten to a bloody pulp on the side of the road, if you come to their door wounded and hungry, then most of the time, they'll fix you up. They'll feed you, just because they can. And I think that's why your species has survived this long despite being the physically and magically weakest. Except for the elves, maybe," he said thoughtfully, "if the houses all learned to cooperate out of more than just mutual destruction, maybe we could thrive, not just survive."

"You said, 'in my experience,' I broke in when I was sure he was done, "did you mean that you've been saved by humans?"

Anti's POV:

"did you mean that you've been saved by humans?"

I saw the nurse I took the anesthesia from in my mind's eye, along with a couple other humans I'd taken advantage of in the past. A married couple in what was now Ukraine who took me in from where I was passed out on the road, only to be murdered and eaten the next morning. A young boy no more than sixteen in africa who had shown me how to get to israel. I killed him the moment his back was turned. 

"...A couple times," I said, hating the odd twinge in my chest at the thought of my transgressions. Was that disgust? Was I disgusted with myself? Luckily, I had an excuse to derail that train of thought when we arrived at our destination. I opened the glass door and motioned Atticus in with a nod. He didn't move at first except to drop his jaw comically; I almost snickered at his expression. 

"Armani?!" He exclaimed after a second, "you're taking me to Armani?!! What the bloody hell for?" I winced at how piercing his tone was, digging into my ear with my pinky. 

"Jesus fuck, calm down you prepubescent howler monkey! Yes, we're going to Armani," I groused as I recovered from his screeching, "I said we were gonna get you a suit, not that trash you get at normie department stores." 

His grin was so big it looked painful. He wooped and jumped into the air once before dashing into the store. I chuckled and shook my head before following him in, putting a weak diversion ward over both of us to prevent unwanted social contact. 

One hour later...

"You know they can wrap the suit up for you, right? The event is tomorrow," I said, giving him a funny look as we walked out of the store. This time, there were only three people in the building, so I just snapped my fingers and knocked them out. Atticus shrugged, fidling with his suit cuffs as we went. 

 

"I know, I just really wanted to wear it... I've never worn a suit before," he said, sounding so happy and awed at such a simple thing that I was reminded of the kind of life he'd had before all this. I was sort of glad that he would finally get to have some of the things that asshole denied him; if there was anything I understood, it was the pain of being completely under someone else's power. I immediately banished those thoughts from my head though; my past had no place here. Instead of brooding, I took out my phone to search for a hotel. It was probably safe to rent one, because not many paranormals would be willing to start a fight with this much activity in the area. I picked one out around six miles away, close to where Sean and his friends were staying. 

"Alright, let's hail a cab and-" I stopped as a certain kind of coldness spread through me. It was a nervous prickle, kind of like being afraid of something you couldn't stop. Dread. 

But it was oddly distant, too. 

"Sean," I whispered, looking inward to examine the feeling. He was deeply terrified of something, truly afraid for the lives of him and his friends. Feeling the potency of his terror, I shoved my way into his mind, not caring whether or not he sensed me. I got the shock of a lifetime when I saw what he was seeing.

Oh, this was bad. That cherubic little satan's spawn was Lillith, the current Lady of the Vampire house. If she brought even two of her underlings with her, the four of them would be toast. Where the fuck were the other six? Where was Dark? I was interrupted by a rush of adrenaline from Sean as he debated whether or not to fight back. 

"Don't even think about it, Kermit. That's the Vampire Lady; There's no way you'll be able to take her and the guards she's most likely brought."

"Anti?!" Sean exclaimed in his head. I sent him a cheeky salute. 

"Sup."

Lillith asked them where the others were, smiling sweetly all the while. Ugh, vampires. Made me sick. 

"Are Dark, Mikhail or the Witch anywhere nearby?" I asked. 

"No."

"Then lie. Don't tell them where your other friends are. Vampires don't have any third eye abilities, so they can't tell if you're lying. Sure, they can smell through walls, but they don't-"

"They don't have Felix and Marzia's scent. Got it."

I listened as he lied through his teeth. Good, it was plausible. And probably true; where else would dark go but the scene of the crime? 

I saw Lillith's smile drop into a snarl. She was about to move. 

"Sean, listen to me. It's the house, they're the ones behind whatever happened outside town. You need to contact me the second you wake up; they'll put commune wards around each of you, but they won't expect a human to be connected to a demon. You understand?" I asked. Shock, confusion, and outright terror filled him at the  mention of the house.

"Yes." 

"Good. Sweet dreams, luigi."

And he was out. I cringed as the connection went dark; he hadn't even seen what hit him. 

"Antioch? Are you alright?" 

I looked down at Atticus; I had frozen up in the middle of the sidewalk for what I was guessing was about five minutes, so he looked understandably freaked out at my space cadet stunt. I nodded.

"I'm fine, but our frenemies aren't.  Come on. We'll catch a cab so I can explain on the way.

And I'll only explain this once, so listen up."


	23. 23

Felix's POV:

Marzia and I just kind of froze up, not knowing what to think. I had never wished more for telepathy in my entire life. 

"How... what?" I said, struggling to grasp the concept. 

"Explain. Now," Marzia demanded, recovering from her shock quicker than I did. She pressed her sword into Virgo's neck slightly, making the purple girl gulp. 

"Okay. I'll start from the beginning, but you have to take that thing away from my neck."

Marzia narrowed her eyes, but retracted the blade at Virgo's request. The Djinn sighed in relief, leaning against the wall behind her. After taking a moment to recover, she began to explain. 

"The first thing you should know is that my brother and I are royalty. Our father is King Alistair Kain, the Head of the Djinn house." 

Marzia stiffened, sucking in a quick breath. I shot her a questioning sidelong glance, but she just shook her head and waved me off. 

"Yeah. I know," Virgo said flatly, "trust me, I don't like him anymore than you do. I mean, I didn't ask to be a Djinn Princess. It's so unfair, what if I wanted to be a duck? Or a platypus?" She rambled. 

"Didn't you have something you were gonna explain?" I asked. I wasn't sure whether I was amused or annoyed. 

"Oh. Yeah, right. Anyway, me, Virgil, and our sisters are House royalty, blah blah," she repeated quickly, whisking a hand through the air, "but Virgil is the most important, because he's the heir to the throne."

"So why was he acting as a rogue Djinn? His political importance aside, very few Djinn travel alone," Marzia said. Virgo visibly wilted, her eyes dropping to the floor as her lips began to quiver slightly. She began to twist her hair again. 

"That's... well... It's hard to explain, I-" 

"Try," Marzia demanded in an icy tone, drawing a small flinch from Virgo. I shot Marzia a disapproving look. Jesus, talk about merciless. The poor girl was clearly struggling with whatever fresh wounds we'd just opened.

"Hey, it's cool, just take your time," I soothed, earning myself a scowl from Marzia that I ignored. Virgo peeked up at me from under her hair and gave me a shy smile. 

"O-okay. Well..."

 

Coming up next: the good sister's story and FINALLY an explanation of the House.


	24. 24

The Isle of Skye off the coast of Scotland, 1964

 

(The castle is there, there are just invisibility and diversion wards there. Shut up and deal with it)

"Father! Father you have to believe me, it wasn't me! I loved Mother, you know I did!" Virgil cried out, struggling against the two royal guardsmen that were restraining him. He had cuffs on his wrists that were inlaid with a  restraining Jinx so that he couldn't dissolve and escape.

I watched tearfully as he begged and pleaded with the King, who watched expressionlessly from his throne. Violet, Valentine, and I stood silently off to the side, unable to intervene in the tragic proceedings. Valentine, never one to show much emotion, looked quietly troubled, while Violet was smirking nastily beside her. I was fine with Valentine, but I never liked Violet; she was wicked and mean, a bully who made the most of every opportunity to further her own interests regardless of who she hurt along the way. 

I searched father's stony eyes for any hint of regret or mercy or empathy, but came up empty. Even more disturbing was the absence of grief on his face despite his own wife's death just an hour prior. I had known for a long time that he had never really cared for Mother, that he had married for power and influence rather than love, but the sheer apathy on his face still sickened me.

 

"There were multiple witnesses, and no alibi for your whereabouts, my son," the king intoned icily, "I have no choice." 

"No... No! Father, please!!" Virgil yelled hoarsely, eyes wide with desperation and terror.

"Your sentence-"

"Father!" 

"Is fifty years-" 

"Father!!" 

"In the void realm," he finished as if Virgil hadn't said a word,  motioning to the guards with a flick of his fingers.

"FATHER!! I'M INNOCENT, PLEASE!! DON'T DO THIS!!" My beloved brother screamed as he was dragged roughly from the room at the king's behest. I covered my mouth with my hands to keep from sobbing aloud as burning tears flooded my eyes and blurred my vision, running hotly down my face. Valentine wrapped her arm around my shoulder. 

My father promptly remarried not three months later, choosing his advisor, Odette Guevara, for a wife. She was an incredibly wealthy upper class woman who's family had much influence with several circles of the Mammalian, Aquarian, and Arachnid shifters. It was clear that he had once again married for the worst reasons. The speed with which he hastened the marriage sickened me almost as much as his choice of spouse; she was haughty, self entitled, and vain, with a talent for vile scheming that rivaled Violet's. I was almost certain that she had something to do with my mother's murder. 

The king never cared for Virgil as a father should his son. In fact, they absolutely despised each other. They couldn't have been more different; Virgil, though he was ornery and derisive, possessed the strong moral compass that my father lacked. Where the king was power hungry, war mongering, and materialistic, Virgil simply wanted to reign peacefully, to use his time on the throne for the betterment of our society and the Djinn's relationship with the other Paranormals. This drove a rift between them that wasn't helped by Virgil's sassy, sardonic nature. I think that was part of the reason father was so quick to believe Odette; he jumped at the excuse to be rid of Virgil, so that Valentine would be next in line instead. Her passive nature would be much easier for him to control from the sidelines when he had to give up the throne. 

I hated it. I hated him. I hated the life that was forced on me, the corruption I had to live with on a daily basis. I hated Odette. I hated Violet. I hated the king. But I saved most of the hate for myself. 

Looking back, I know I could have done something. I mean, it wouldn't have worked of course, but I could have tried. I could have fought, but I didn't, too young and afraid to stand up to my father. I was and am a failure as a little sister.

Present day

"I still don't know what really happened to mother," Virgo said sadly. Halfway through her story, she had begun hugging herself, curling in her shoulders as if she were trying to make herself smaller. It was honestly a little heartbreaking to watch. I knew she was probably as old as my grandmother, but that didn't change how fragile and young she looked. She sniffled a little before continuing. 

"All me and my sisters heard were little rumors here and there; father forbade any talk of the incident, though he wouldn't say why. All I know is that when Odette accidentally let out word of her guilt, Virgil was released and she was put to death. I looked for him the day of his release, but..." she shook her head, "he had dissolved and fled as soon as his cuffs were removed, so by the time I got there, he was long gone. We never heard from him again. Until now. And this time..." she dropped her arms by her sides, her fists white-knuckling as her expression twisted into one of bitter anger and determination.

"This time, I'm going to fight."

Marzia and I looked at each other, the same question written on both of our faces: Could we trust this girl? I could tell that we had both reached the same conclusion, too:   
We didn't really have a choice. We turned our attention back to the sniffling girl before us. 

"Alright, Virgo Sanders," Marzia said in a slightly softer tone than before, like stone rather than steel, "Take us to our friends."

Virgo perked up slightly.

"A-And Virgil, right?" She asked anxiously. 

"Virgil falls under the 'friend' category too," I assured her. She beamed at that, her gloom disappearing like someone had flipped a switch. She practically vibrated with energy.

"Alright!" She bubbled, "Let's go!" 

 

(Obviously, she doesn't know the whole story because she wasn't there for the murder or with virgil in his fifty three year exile. I hope this explains a little though)


	25. 25

Sean's POV:

My eyes opened slowly... or at least I thought they did; It was hard to tell with how ridiculously pitch dark it was. I grunted as I shifted to my side. My entire body was sore and damp and chilled to the bone, like I had been sleeping on rocks outdoors. 

"Oh, would you look at that- I was sleeping on rocks. Joy."

I was laying on the cold stone floor of what I was assuming was a dungeon, if the cold metal around my wrists and the happy tinkle of chains was any indication. Suddenly remembering what I was supposed to be doing, I snapped the rest of the way out of my post-sleep stupor and sat up straight, closing my eyes and reaching out to Anti in my mind. To my eternal relief, my one and only life line answered within seconds.

"Oh, not dead I see. Can't decide whether I'm disappointed."

"Stuff a sock in it, Jackass," I shot back irrately as my relief turned into annoyance, "can you track my location? Cause I have no fuckin' clue where I am."

"You know, if you don't cut the sass, I might just decide not to help you at all," Anti Chuckled.

"Anti!!"

"Kay, kay, fine. Yeah, I can track you. It's gonna take time though; this bond is pretty strong, but the wards they casted are a real bitch to bypass," he admitted. I sighed, lifting my hands to massage my temples. 

"Ugh. Any idea how long? It's cold and wet in here," I groused. 

"Oh please, I can see everything. You've had worse, you pansy."

"Uh, yeah. From YOU, you ASS!" I fumed, "Now answer the God damned-"

"Five hours, princess, give or take," He cut in, "Do me a favor and keep your panties in one piece 'til then, yeah?"

And he was gone with the bloody wind, the bastard. 

"God dammit," I muttered. I took the time to squint around and listen closely for any movement; I eventually heard a groan and a shuffle from somewhere far off to my right. It sounded like...

"Mark? Mark, is that you?" I whispered, relieved to no end that I wasn't alone in this shit hole. He groaned again.

"Ugh... jesus, I feel like I've been sleeping on-" 

"You have," I interrupted impatiently, "But other than that, you good?" 

"Yeah, I guess. Wait. Dude, where's Chica?!" He exclaimed in a sudden panic. There was a low whining growl From the opposite side of the room that made us both stop. 

"Found her," I announced dryly. Mark exhaled roughly. 

"I can guess what happened..." Chica said as she shook herself and snuffled to wake herself up, "but where are we? All I can smell is..." she paused, a strong wave of confusion rolling off of her. 

"What's up, girl?" Asked Mark. Chica sniffed rapidly before doing that thing dogs do where they sneeze several times on purpose. 

"I... I smell Virgil," she said slowly. I jolted and straightened up in shock as a clamor from Mark's direction told me he was doing the same. 

"What?! Are you kidding me right now?" I yelled. Chica whined again in confusion.

"No, wait. It's not quite him. It's really close though, I'm sorry," she said with regret. I slumped back again. The false alarm made the fresh wound of his death so much worse. 

"It's alright, Chica. You didn't mean to," Mark soothed his dog, even though the same note of disappointment rang through his voice. We sat there in the dark for awhile with nothing else to say. 

"Wait! Someone's coming!" Chica yelled suddenly, a scuffle and a deep growl sounding from her direction. Mark and I shot up and tried to stand, but were both yanked right back down by the short chains shackling us to the wall. 

"Gah, mother fucker..." I hissed as I rubbed my tender wrists, "What do they smell like, Chica? Can you describe it? Any species you've met?" I asked quickly. Her growl stopped before returning louder than before. 

"It's a Demon, I'm sure of it!" 

"Fuuuuuuck! Is it Fell? Please tell me it's Dark. Anti, even!" Mark groaned.

"It's not a person I recognize. All I can tell is that a Demon is heading this way," she responded uneasily, "and that Jericho is with him." 

Fear and worry for Jericho twisted in my chest at her words, a lump forming in my throat. Fuck, I'd forgotten all about her. 

Sure enough, a couple seconds later, we heard footsteps approaching our chamber in a slow, measured stride. Whoever it was was taking their sweet time, and I had the sneaking suspicion that it was just to fuck with us. A small door on the wall across from me swung open, flooding the room with a light that seemed blinding after the darkness. I squinted and blinked rapidly as a tall silhouette ducked into the room and bent to lay something gently on the floor. 

"Jericho! God dammit, what did you do to her, you psycho?!" I yelled, yanking at my bindings. Chica and Mark both let loose supplimenting snarls. 

The silhouette just Laughed.

"The hunter I've heard so much about," he mused as if I hadn't spoken, "you've brought us a lot of shit these past five years, Sean." 

I stiffened at the use of my name. The Demon turned to Mark next.

"And an Evoker, too. First one in over nine centuries. Fancy that," he said, sounding impressed, "and the first human in history to bond with a God damned dog. You're just ten pounds of weird in a five pound sack, aint'cha?" He chuckled. Mark just bared his teeth. 

Now that my eyes had adjusted to the light, I could finally see Jericho on the floor at his feet. She was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the danger around her. Seething, I turned my glare on the Demon's smug face. He smirked. 

"I suppose you're all at a bit of a disadvantage, seein' as I know everything there is to know about you, but you don't know a thing 'bout me," he drawled, "so let me formally introduce myself."

As he spoke, his eyes flooded with shadows until they were just pure onyx orbs with no pupils or scleras. Out of all the Demon eyes I'd seen, these had to be some of the most unsettling.

"The name's Lord Azazel, or King Dean if you wanna use my vessel's name," he smirked, "and/or have your dick cut off and forced down your throat." 

He dropped into a formal bow before his next words sent my heart into over drive:

"The Demon King, at your service."


	26. 26

Jericho's POV, seventeen minutes earlier:

I was greeted with a pair of glittering onyx eyes when I finally opened my own. I shrieked in surprise, causing the face before me to jerk away as the man it belonged to took a couple steps away from the waist-high stone surface I was laid out on. I tried to sit up quickly, but was yanked back down by metal fixtures that were fastened around my neck, wrists, and ankles, confining me to the slab. I angrily jerked and struggled for a couple more seconds before a low chuckle reached me through my panic. I stopped cold before slowly angling my head towards my captor, glaring daggers at whoever dared to laugh at me in this state. 

He honestly wasn't that bad looking. Golden-bronze skin overlaid his finely toned muscles and well defined bone structure. Bright, mischievous green eyes met my own steadily, faint crow's feet crinkling on the outer edges in his amusement. His arms were crossed in a confident, superior posture that said he was in complete control and he damn well knew it. I scowled as his grin widened, showcasing his perfect white teeth. I thought he looked like an Abercrombie frat boy with narcissistic personality disorder. 

His eyes widened a bit before he threw back his head and howled with laughter, his chest and shoulders shaking with mirth. I winced but held firm as the echo his deafening baritone boomed ominously back and forth off the walls of the claustrophobic chamber. 

 

"Woo! Abercrombie frat boy!" He snickered when his little fit began to calm, "that's a new one!"

He let out one last sigh before his smile abruptly dropped, all amusement vanishing from his eyes in an instant as his skin suddenly drained of color. There was a sudden chill in the air as the temperature in the room plummeted into what felt like negative degrees, and I could see my breath after every shaky exhale. A frigid aura of deep gray and black bloomed around him, augmenting his already menacing presence and sucking the air and life out of the room so that it was almost physically hard to breath. I felt the blood drain from my face and my breath catch in my throat as the unknown man slowly approached me with careful, measured steps, staring deeply into my eyes all the while. 

He kneeled beside the stone table and leaned forward so that his face was inches from mine. He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? No more snark? C'mon, Where's that sass from just a second ago, I was enjoying that!" I heard his voice whisper mockingly in my mind. I shook off my fright and resumed my glare, refusing to show my terror anymore than I already had. I looked through the smoke and  searched his now completely gray face and black eyes, Almost the same as Dark's. 

"You're a Demon," I observed, feeling the rightness of the statement even as I spoke it. He grinned again. 

"Yep. True blue. Demon Lord Azazel, at your service," he introduced himself with a smirk and a tilt of his head. Seeing my confusion, he rolled his black eyes and sighed. 

"Really. They didn't tell you shit, did they? Oh well," he shrugged, "you'll figure it all out later. In the mean time..." his smirk deepened as he leaned in close.

"Let's get started."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked uneasily. I began to discreetly draw on my power as I spoke, preparing myself to lash out the second I had the chance. The man who had called himself Azazel smirked.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. We got you jinxed up good; the only thing you'll accomplish is-" 

A sharp clap of pain stabbed through my skull before he had even finished speaking. My entire body convulsed, straining against my bonds as my power slipped through my fingers. I groaned and laid still, panting harshly as I tried to recover. How the hell...?

"It wasn't easy," Azazel said conversationally as he stood, walking away to lean on the wall across from me, "you were way more powerful than we expected. I'm glad I sent vamps instead of Djinns or witches or some shit. It would have been a lot messier if they fought with magic instead of brute strength. Anyway, the Jinxes," he said, waving a hand through the air.

"I've never seen someone who requires this many surpression jinxes. It's honestly insane," Azazel said in an admiring tone, "Unheard of, even for a bound Druid. I'd love to dig into that beautiful mind..." his voice devolved into a low murmur, with a hungry undertone that made me shudder. 

"But unfortunately for you, that's not what I'm here for," the Demon said regretfully, "There's someone else who wants to speak to you a lot more than I do, darlin.' And he's a lot less civil than me."

With that, he approached me once again, this time reaching out to put a palm to my forehead to grip my skull. I flinched and growled indignantly, jerking my head from side to side in an effort to shake him off. The more I struggled, the harder his grip became, and the more I reached for my power, the more it fled from my grasp; it was infuriating and painful, and I eventually had to stop to avoid passing out. 

"You done?" Azazel drawled, cocking an eyebrow. I just glared murderously at him. 

"Good," he grinned, not acknowledging my anger, "have fun then."

I didn't have the chance to ask just what the hell he meant by that before everything went black. 

...

...

...

"This can't be happening."

I was standing in the middle of a vast ocean of golden-black mist. I might have thought it as beautiful as Dark's shadows if it weren't for the cold pit of dread that settled heavily in my stomach at the familiarity of the sight. There was only one creature that commanded this presence...

Fell.


	27. 27

Jericho's POV:

I stood there in the darkness, keeping as still and silent as possible. All of my senses were on high alert, every muscle tensed and ready to fight or flee. I trembled Involuntarily with the sheer force of the adrenaline that screamed through my bloodstream as my body prepared itself to do whatever it took to survive. I wore a defiant glare on my face as I scanned my surroundings carefully for the slightest movement. After enduring one long minute of listening to myself breathe, I finally snapped.

"I know you're there, Fell!" I shouted, my voice thunderous in the hellish lull, "stop playing around! Show yourself!"

There wasn't an answer at first. I growled and ground my teeth together in irritation, clenching my hands into tight, white knuckled fists. How dare he? Hadn't the bastard toyed with me enough?! I was about two seconds away from exploding when...

"Hm... I see your fire has grown since our last encounter, Jay-bird. You were such a meek little thing..." 

I whirled around, searching for the source of that awful, rasping  hiss of a voice that ripped through the stillness like a scythe. I immediately decided that the silence was better. I scowled at his  genuinely pleased tone that was somehow mocking, dripping with that special brand of condescension that was usually reserved for show animals. 

"I'm not looking for your approval, Fell. And don't you ever, ever call me that again!" I snapped, my voice rising in volume. I nearly screamed in frustration when he simply chuckled. 

"Oh? And what if I'm fond of the name? I'm simply dying to hear how you plan to enforce your demands, little thing," he teased. I closed my eyes and took a deep breatn before letting it out slowly in an attempt to calm myself down before I said something I would regret. It didn't help much. 

"Why am I here, Fell?" I ground out slowly through gritted teeth. 

"Would you believe me if I said I missed you?" 

"Not a chance."

"Hm. Well it's true, in any case. However, as lovely as this chat has been, your company isn't all I require from you today," he said, his tone only slightly more serious. A tendril of gold smoke suddenly detatched from the  writhing ocean of shadow, rocketing towards me in a whip-like blur that was too quick to dodge or block. I stiffened when it reached my face, tensing at the feeling of the biting cold of a Demon's shadows against my skin. It gently caressed my cheek, triggering an eruption of goosebumps across my face and neck before playfully tugging at a lock of hair. 

I belatedly recovered from the unexpected shock, batting the shadow away with a scowl. Thankfully, the thing retreated immediately at my touch. But my relief was quickly extinguished when the tendril reared back like a snake and shot towards me once again, this time latching tightly onto my wrist. I tried with all my might to free myself, my heartbeat stuttering wildly as my anger began to deteriorate in the face of my fear.

My breath caught in my throat as the smoke that encircled my wrist shifted and warped, morphing into a disembodied hand that gripped me just as firmly. I watched in steadily growing terror as the shadow's transformation continued, steadily forming the arm that the hand belonged to from the bottom up. I watched in helpless dread as a tall, looming figure began to take shape as a set of broad shoulders came into view, followed by his chest and neck...

My eyes mechanically followed the motion until I found myself face to face with Fell. His lips were drawn into an amused smirk that reached his glinting serpentine eyes. 

 

"Such a bore," Fell sighed melodramatically, "you're so tense, love... Come now, what's a little banter between friends?" 

"Of all the many things I could call you, friend is definitely not on the list," I growled as I tried to yank my arm free. He just tightened his grip, making me wince in discomfort. I tensed as He leaned down to put his lips to my ear, his rough cheek brushing mine.

"Consider your words carefully when addressing me, little thing," Fell murmured coldly, none of his previous amusement in his tone, "My patience has a limit... and I doubt very seriously that you are prepared to witness what happens when that limit is reached."

Despite the anger that was boiling in my chest at his words, I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and resisted the urge to shove him away. This was his domain, his playground. He had the upper hand here, and I wasn't about to throw myself into a downhill battle unless I had no other choice. I felt him grin as he pressed his face into the crook of my neck. 

"Good girl," he cooed. 

"Bastard," I seethed to myself, fantasizing all the ways I could murder him in vivid detail. He finally drew back, straightening to his full height to loom menacingly over me once more. 

"Now," his eyes glinted as he spoke, "to business."


	28. 28

Sean's POV:

"The Demon King, at your service."

"Oh, fuck me," I thought bitterly, closing my eyes and letting my head thump back against the wall with a groan. Great. So the fucking Demon King knew that we had an Evoker, a seether, and a Druid. That information leak made us vulnerable, because God knows how many others Azazel might have told. 

"Keep quiet unless he addresses you directly; let me do the talking," I shot Mark and Chica quickly, hoping I was using my relatively new abilities right. A lot of the time it was hit and miss. To my relief, both of them nodded ever so slightly. 

"So where's the rest of the gang?" The King asked, still wearing an amicable smile, "we're missing two." 

"I have no idea," I replied calmly even as alarms blared in my head. The two they had failed to capture had to be Marzia and Felix. If they were the only ones free, that meant Dark, Wiishu, Mikhail, and Amy had somehow all been successfully captured. Dark was powerful though; their abductors must have threatened to kill the others to subdue him. 

How were we going to get out of here if the most powerful members of our group were out of commission??

"You know what I think?" Azazel asked conversationally, "I think you do know. I can tell without even reading your mind. So here's the deal."

He pulled a large, wickedly sharp bowie knife out of a holder on his belt as he spoke. 

"Either you tell me where you last saw them and where you think they're gonna go... or I give floof over there a much needed haircut. It'll be a close shave, though," he grinned. Mark swallowed audibly as the color drained from his face at the thought of being scalped. I narrowed my eyes at him before dropping my gaze to the floor in defeat. I was just about to tell him when- 

"Lord Azazel!!"

A man who I assumed was a butler of some sort burst through the door, bowing immediately before spilling a hasty explanation.

"Lady Virgo has gone missing! It is believed that she is traveling with the remaining Outsiders," he said, out of breath.   
"A search is being performed, but King Alistair of The Djinn House believes there is no one better suited to track her than you, and so sent me to humbly ask for your assisstance post-haste."

Azazel paused before sighing in resignation. 

"Shit. I owe the old bastard, don't I? I fuckin' hate politics..." he grumbled, straightening up to walk past the messenger.   
"You tell the old geezer that we're even after this, you got that?" He growled as he left the room. 

"Y-Yes your majesty!" The poor Paranormal stuttered before following Azazel out of the room. The door slammed shut with a heavy bang, once again leaving us in the darkness. The three of us breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"D-Do you really think he would have..." Mark stammered in a small voice, trailing off as if unable to finish the sentence. 

"Uh... yeah," I said in a 'duh' tone. Mark whimpered a bit before clearing his throat, apparently trying to get ahold of himself. 

"You good Mark?" Chica asked worriedly. Mark took a deep breath.

"I'm fine. I just... I almost lost my beautiful hair..." he moaned forlornly. Chica and I were silent for a couple seconds. 

"...That's what you were worried about?" I asked flatly, "not your fucking scalp?"

"Sometimes I want to bite you," Chica grumbled in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. 

"Okay, okay, enough about that," I snapped impatiently, "I still need to explain what The House is."

Atticus' POV:

"Come on, we need a cab. I'll explain on the way. And I'll only explain this once, so listen up," Anti said as we began walking. I nodded.

"Alright, good. Now, there's an underground group in the Paranormal world called The House..."

Felix's POV:

"Hey, I don't mean to sound like a scrub, but what the hell is this about the 'houses' and the Demon and Djinn kings?" I asked, crossing my arms and cocking an eyebrow, "because I'd like to know what the fuck is going on before we set out."

Virgo's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You don't- how in the world do you not know about The House??" She exclaimed incredulously. 

"He is not the brightest tool in the shed," Marzia attempted to explain with a smirk. I sighed, but decided not to comment and let herself think she was clever to save time. Virgo plopped herself on the floor and motioned for us to do the same.

"Alright newbie, buckle down and listen close. This may take awhile."


	29. 29

Sean's POV:

"The Demon King, at your service."

"Oh, fuck me," I thought bitterly, closing my eyes and letting my head thump back against the wall with a groan. Great. So the fucking Demon King knew that we had an Evoker, a seether, and a Druid. That information leak made us vulnerable, because God knows how many others Azazel might have told. 

"Keep quiet unless he addresses you directly; let me do the talking," I shot Mark and Chica quickly, hoping I was using my relatively new abilities right. A lot of the time it was hit and miss. To my relief, both of them nodded ever so slightly. 

"So where's the rest of the gang?" The King asked, still wearing an amicable smile, "we're missing two." 

"I have no idea," I replied calmly even as alarms blared in my head. The two they had failed to capture had to be Marzia and Felix. If they were the only ones free, that meant Dark, Wiishu, Mikhail, and Amy had somehow all been successfully captured. Dark was powerful though; their abductors must have threatened to kill the others to subdue him. 

How were we going to get out of here if the most powerful members of our group were out of commission??

"You know what I think?" Azazel asked conversationally, "I think you do know. I can tell without even reading your mind. So here's the deal."

He pulled a large, wickedly sharp bowie knife out of a holder on his belt as he spoke. 

"Either you tell me where you last saw them and where you think they're gonna go... or I give floof over there a much needed haircut. It'll be a close shave, though," he grinned. Mark swallowed audibly as the color drained from his face at the thought of being scalped. I narrowed my eyes at him before dropping my gaze to the floor in defeat. I was just about to tell him when- 

"Lord Azazel!!"

A man who I assumed was a butler of some sort burst through the door, bowing immediately before spilling a hasty explanation.

"Lady Virgo has gone missing! It is believed that she is traveling with the remaining Outsiders," he said, out of breath.   
"A search is being performed, but King Alistair of The Djinn House believes there is no one better suited to track her than you, and so sent me to humbly ask for your assisstance post-haste."

Azazel paused before sighing in resignation. 

"Shit. I owe the old bastard, don't I? I fuckin' hate politics..." he grumbled, straightening up to walk past the messenger.   
"You tell the old geezer that we're even after this, you got that?" He growled as he left the room. 

"Y-Yes your majesty!" The poor Paranormal stuttered before following Azazel out of the room. The door slammed shut with a heavy bang, once again leaving us in the darkness. The three of us breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"D-Do you really think he would have..." Mark stammered in a small voice, trailing off as if unable to finish the sentence. 

"Uh... yeah," I said in a 'duh' tone. Mark whimpered a bit before clearing his throat, apparently trying to get ahold of himself. 

"You good Mark?" Chica asked worriedly. Mark took a deep breath.

"I'm fine. I just... I almost lost my beautiful hair..." he moaned forlornly. Chica and I were silent for a couple seconds. 

"...That's what you were worried about?" I asked flatly, "not your fucking scalp?"

"Sometimes I want to bite you," Chica grumbled in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. 

"Okay, okay, enough about that," I snapped impatiently, "I still need to explain what The House is."

Atticus' POV:

"Come on, we need a cab. I'll explain on the way. And I'll only explain this once, so listen up," Anti said as we began walking. I nodded.

"Alright, good. Now, there's an underground group in the Paranormal world called The House..."

Felix's POV:

"Hey, I don't mean to sound like a scrub, but what the hell is this about the 'houses' and the Demon and Djinn kings?" I asked, crossing my arms and cocking an eyebrow, "because I'd like to know what the fuck is going on before we set out."

Virgo's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You don't- how in the world do you not know about The House??" She exclaimed incredulously. 

"He is not the brightest tool in the shed," Marzia attempted to explain with a smirk. I sighed, but decided not to comment and let herself think she was clever to save time. Virgo plopped herself on the floor and motioned for us to do the same.

"Alright newbie, buckle down and listen close. This may take awhile."


	30. 30

The exclusively Paranormal orginazation known as "The House" is the closest the hidden world has ever come to an organized government and line of defense. In that way, one could liken The House to a mixture between an organization such as the the U.N., or the The Resistance. 

The first House gathering was held a little over five hundred years ago when the populations of some Paranormals began to dwindle at the hands of the Resistance, which was at that time "Se Leoht." The gathering is formed by representatives of each type of Paranormal that are selected in a process of that specimen's choosing. They met at a discreet place and time to discuss the preservation and longevity of their species, the main problem being the Resistance. For this reason, The House is said to be "A defense against humanity's defense."

The participating species are listed as follows: 

Demons,  
Angels,  
Djinn,  
Vampires,   
Witches,  
Elementals,  
Unseelie Elves,  
Nagas,  
Salt Water Zoras,  
Fresh water Mers,  
And Seelie Elves.

There is a hierarchy of influence as well. The list above goes from the species with the most power at the top, all the way to the species with the weakest influence at the bottom. This hierarchy is not based on population size as one might expect, but power. This is unsurprising when one Considers most Paranormal's hostile and aggressive behavior. The Demon King is usually the most feared of the group.

The Witches are an unusual exeption; despite their extraordinarily gifted Third Eyes, their natural talent for magic, and their masterg of herbology, they are technically human, powerful as they may be. Even though this sets them apart from the other members of The house, they are widely accepted by the majority of other Paranormals due to their ability to maintain their power by keeping their bloodlines pure.

The only Paranormals who are excluded are those that fall under what is known as the 'Beast' category, such as Wraiths and Beldams. Paranormals that are classified as Beasts possess sub-par intelligence that makes them more like animals than sentient and self aware beings.

The most common topics that The House addresses are as follows:

\- Defense against the Resistance  
\- Population size and rate of growth  
\- The settlement of any disputes concerning the distribution of land between species  
\- The appearance of any unusual person/persons or abnormal  activity that may or may not pose a threat

For the most part, The Resistance keeps an eye on the House's affairs, but does not interfere. It is believed that a preemptive strike would immediately result in violent retaliation and the beginnings of what could be a very bloody war. Ironically, this   
cold war-like guarantee of mutual destruction has kept the peace for many years. Seeing as the main purpose of The House is to maintain power rather than increase it, the two organizations leave each other to their own affairs.


	31. 32

The exclusively Paranormal orginazation known as "The House" is the closest the hidden world has ever come to an organized government and line of defense. In that way, one could liken The House to a mixture between an organization such as the the U.N., or the The Resistance. 

The first House gathering was held a little over five hundred years ago when the populations of some Paranormals began to dwindle at the hands of the Resistance, which was at that time "Se Leoht." The gathering is formed by representatives of each type of Paranormal that are selected in a process of that specimen's choosing. They met at a discreet place and time to discuss the preservation and longevity of their species, the main problem being the Resistance. For this reason, The House is said to be "A defense against humanity's defense."

The participating species are listed as follows: 

Demons,  
Angels,  
Djinn,  
Vampires,   
Witches,  
Elementals,  
Unseelie Elves,  
Nagas,  
Salt Water Zoras,  
Fresh water Mers,  
And Seelie Elves.

There is a hierarchy of influence as well. The list above goes from the species with the most power at the top, all the way to the species with the weakest influence at the bottom. This hierarchy is not based on population size as one might expect, but power. This is unsurprising when one Considers most Paranormal's hostile and aggressive behavior. The Demon King is usually the most feared of the group.

The Witches are an unusual exeption; despite their extraordinarily gifted Third Eyes, their natural talent for magic, and their masterg of herbology, they are technically human, powerful as they may be. Even though this sets them apart from the other members of The house, they are widely accepted by the majority of other Paranormals due to their ability to maintain their power by keeping their bloodlines pure.

The only Paranormals who are excluded are those that fall under what is known as the 'Beast' category, such as Wraiths and Beldams. Paranormals that are classified as Beasts possess sub-par intelligence that makes them more like animals than sentient and self aware beings.

The most common topics that The House addresses are as follows:

\- Defense against the Resistance  
\- Population size and rate of growth  
\- The settlement of any disputes concerning the distribution of land between species  
\- The appearance of any unusual person/persons or abnormal  activity that may or may not pose a threat

For the most part, The Resistance keeps an eye on the House's affairs, but does not interfere. It is believed that a preemptive strike would immediately result in violent retaliation and the beginnings of what could be a very bloody war. Ironically, this   
cold war-like guarantee of mutual destruction has kept the peace for many years. Seeing as the main purpose of The House is to maintain power rather than increase it, the two organizations leave each other to their own affairs. 

 

.................................................................

 

The following is a list of the participating species and their chosen process of selecting representatives.

Seelie Elves: 

The peace loving Seelie Elves simply hold a yearly tally where the members of each of the three tribes (two of which are based in North America, and one in the middle east) nominate and vote on who they prefer. These nominees do not necessarily have to be a Sage (people who lead the tribes) to participate. Three Seelie  representatives attend the gathering every year, one for each tribe. There are no hard feelings afterward. 

Unseelie Elves 

Unlike their kinder counterparts, the Unseelie Elves' decision process is exponentially more violent. This is due in part to the fact that the power that comes with the position of representative would grant them is much more coveted in their tribes. Anyone can participate in the competition without being nominated. Bloody, lawless tournaments are held in each of the four Unseelie tribes (three in North America, and one in Northern Europe) as the Elves celebrate the event with a wild, week-long festival of debauchery and mischief. Of course, such obscenity is to be expected from the Unseelie, who are famous for taking every opportunity to spill blood or spill wine.

Witches

The Witches, unlike the Elves, have about thirty covens around the world with roughly one hundred members each. However, this does not make the process more complicated. In fact, the Representatives are already selected through a system that the Witches already have in place. There are three representatives, one for each continent: The Americas, the African continent, and the European continent. (The Witches, just like humans, traveled across the world and acclimated over time.)   
The matriarchical hierarchy that the Witches already live by is very simple; in each tribe, there is one head Priestess who is assisted in her duties by as many as ten lesser Priestesses. Every head Priestess within a single continent answer to the High Priestess, known as the Morrigan in Europe and the Ash in Africa, who reigns supreme over all covens in that domain. The three High Priestesses are the obvious choice of representative.

Naga:

Like the Djinn, the mantel of power is passed down through generations of Naga royalty. And like the Witches, they function as a Matriarchy, so most, if not all of their leaders are female. This makes the decision very simple, provided that there is no dissention towards the throne.

Djinn:

The Djinn House's selection  basically functions the same way as the Naga's, with the exeption of most of their leaders being male rather than female. 

Demon:

In years past, it was the norm for Demons to fight to the death for the seat. It was a crude, unorganized system; the current king would be challenged for the seat, and whoever won became the new Demon lord or kept the throne, depending on who the challenger was. However, due to the fact that there are much fewer Demons today than there were even as little as a century ago, challengers for the position have become extremely rare due to the fear of extinction. Since no one really knows how Demons are created, we have no way of knowing what would happen all existing Demons were wiped out. 

Vampires:

For a race with such deceitful and downright brutal hunting methods, the Vampire's selection process is suprisingly civil. The Vampre population has always been relatively small, with only ninety-eight recorded in the last census. This paired with the fact that all Vampire clans are based in either the U.S. or canada with no specific boundary lines or innerspecies animosity makes it only necessary to send two representatives.   
Vampire culture is neither female or male dominated, so one Dhampire (a male Vampire) and one Lamia (a female Vampire) are chosen each year.   
There are six Vampire clans, each with around fifteen members, as is standard. Due to the rareness of births, this ratio usually remains constant.   
The mantel of representative is passed in a cycle through the clans so that all have equal turn. The former representatives spend a year with the next clan and make a choice at the end of the year, right before the House Gathering. Their choice is absolute.


	32. 32

Atticus' POV:

I sat there silently after his twenty minute crash course in Paranormal politics with what I'm sure was a ridiculously dumbfounded expression glued to my face. With both the sheer amount of information and Antioch's sub-par abilities as a teacher, any retention of the subject was basically impossible. The complex inner workings of some unseen shadow world's government, comprised of all the nightmares we used to scare children straight... it was simply too much to process. 

Seeing my confusion, Antioch sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his unkempt mop of hair. 

"Tell me you at least caught some of that," he said flatly. I simply shook my head helplessly. Antioch sighed again. 

"Whatever. Anyway, we've got about ten minutes til we reach the other side of town, so now would be a good time to continue your story."

Ah. I'd forgotten. 

"Why you're so fascinated with my past is beyond me. Don't we have more important things to worry about?" I asked. Not that I really knew what those things were.

"Nnnnope!" Antioch said, drawing out the word and popping the P at the end. He leaned forward with a smirk, his chin in his hand.

"Start talkin' shorty."

I groaned wearily. 

"Fine. After a year of thievery and scavaging and occasionally breaking into people's houses to use their showers, we finally encountered a spot of trouble..."

 

Tomatin, Scotland, two years prior:

We sprinted through the streets in the pouring rain, soaked through  and chilled to the bone. Solomon and I had just finished our latest raid when, out of sheer chance, a policeman walked through the door just as we were making our escape. He saw the stash bags and came to the obvious conclusion. We dropped everything and pushed past his (luckily) overweight form quickly, running as fast as our seven and eight year old legs could carry us. I slapped a hand over the engine of the police car in passing, disabling the battery as we ran out of the parking lot. He was a large man, so I knew he didn't stand a chance of keeping up. We heard him cursing and calling for backup as his car failed him. 

Our own faithful vehicle was a couple blocks away. Solomon and I had agreed that because of Sarah's disabilities, bringing her along on heists would be too high a risk to take. If we ever got caught (like we just had) she wouldn't beable to run. We always parked blocks away because if we did encounter trouble, she would at least have a chance to escape if we didn't come back in due time. 

And so we ran for our lives through one of the worst storms I had ever seen, even by Europe's standars. Going back to the van and possibly exposing Sarah was not an option. We had to find somewhere to hide; but where? This section of the city was residential and open, the suburbian outskirts of the city where everyone had dogs and tended to keep their blinds drawn back. Every dog we passed barked madly at us, making me wince. My heart sunk at the lack of alleyways to slink into. 

We were screwed. 

There were sudden blinding flashes of red and blue as a police car suddenly appeared out of nowhere, screeching to a halt in front of us. We turned on our heels only to find yet another approaching down the road. My heart clenched as I immediately thought of Sarah; what would she do without us? It wouldn't take more than a couple days for her to get caught. 

"Okay lads, let's be smart about this," one of the men said as they approached, "You little buggers  caused us a whole heap of troubles over the past year. Got my best mate fired. So this'll go one of two ways; either you come with us willingly... or we can do this the fun way," he grinned as he pulled out his tazer. Of bloody course we would get the bad cop. Of course. Solomon and I held our ground, bracing ourselves as the men approached. 

"Damn, I thought this shit only happened in movies," came an irreverent voice from a little ways behind us. Solomon and I whirled around to see...

Present day: 

"Ah. We're here," Antioch interrupted, looking slightly annoyed, "it was getting good, too..." he pouted. I raised an eyebrow. 

"Well I'm just chuffed that you find my trials so amusing," I quipped dryly as he hopped out of the cab after snapping his fingers to knock the driver out. He shrugged. 

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the most sympathetic Demon. We've all got shit." 

He walked around the car to grin at me in that way that made me dread the future.

"And buckle the fuckle up kid, cause there's more shit to come."


	33. 33

Dark's POV: 

"...Valentine Sanders. Elder sister to Virgil Sanders," she said serenely. I cocked my head, intriuged.

 

"Ah... so you're one of the sisters. Yes, I rember now; I saw a bit of you briefly when I searched his mind," I said, relaxing a bit, "he was quite fond of you. Am I correct in assuming that his trust was well-placed and you're not here to cause trouble?"

(Remember when Virgil thought to himself in the first book that Dark was the only one who REALLY knew why Virgil was travelling alone because of the mind sweep in the dojo? Well Dark never told anyone out of respect for Virgil. Anyway, carry on.)

Her soft smile returned in the barest twitch of her lips as she nodded once in confirmation.

"Yes. I thought you might have done a bit of digging for security's sake. He wouldn't have been allowed to travel with you otherwise," she reasoned. 

"Well. Since we relatively know each other, why are you here?" I asked curiously, leaning back on the wall beside the bed. I could sense powerful wards of varying types and power all around the room; I would be there awhile.

"And further more," my expression darkened as my voice deepened into a growl, "where are my comrades?" I didn't care if she bore ill will or not; if she wouldn't answer me that, I would consider her an enemy. She shifted her weight once from one foot to the other, but aside from that showed no signs of feeling threatened. 

"I don't know. I'm sorry," she said simply. I glared into her eyes as she steadily held my gaze in turn, looking for any indication that she was lying. Finally, I sighed, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"Yes, I believe you; I can see the truth in your eyes, princess," I said, disappointed. I was sick with worry for Jericho, and yes, I was even a bit concerned for the others. This was new territory for all of them except for Mikhail, Wiishu, and I; the rest of them would have no idea how to handle this type of situation. Sean had been a part of our world long enough to have gleaned enough knowledge to get by. But other than understanding the broad concept, I doubted very seriously that he would be much help. 

I was pulled from my gloomy reverie by the soft voice of my visitor.

"... I came here to warn you," she said as she calmly took a seat in a posh armchair across the room, "There are things you need to know about the dark rite's true purpose and why you were brought here. But first..."

She exhaled slowly as if she were preparing to make a confession.

"Virgil is alive."

I pushed off the wall, standing up straight so quickly I nearly fell over. 

"What?! But how? We saw... we saw him disentigrate! right before our eyes!!" I exclaimed, struggling to put the impossibility into words. As unbelievable as it was, I dearly hoped it was true. Valentine waited for me to calm down before continuing.

"He was saved by my father and Virgil's twin, Violet. He was pulled from the void just before he was lost permanently," she explained, "As for how it was done, I haven't the time to delve into the fine details. You understand."

I had to allow myself a moment to let her words sink in before I could speak. 

"Your father and Virgil's twin..." I repeated, "Allistair is a less than savory individual, and if I remember correctly, Violet is the same. What do they want with Virgil?" 

"That, I do not know. Aside from where he is being held, I know nothing of their intentions, only that they are working together. I wish I could be of more help," she apologized regretfully. I waved a hand in dismissal. 

"It's fine. If you know where he is, we can worry about saving him later. Now, what of the rite? What do you know?" I asked, sounding harsher than I meant to. She took it in stride, looking unoffended.

"It goes without saying that this is a source of great disgust and shame for me," she began, turning her face downward, "The humans don't deserve this. This atrocious crime, this disgusting sin... my father's cruelty knows no bounds."

Ah, so her father had a hand in it. Lovely; I needed another reason to relieve him of some of his limbs.

A beat passed before she once again raised her head. Her expression was as vague as always, but with the slightest hint of pain deep in her eyes. 

"But Allistair Kane isn't the only scheming King attending the gathering this year," she said darkly, "nor was the Djinn house the lone perpetrator of the slaughter. In fact, besides its function as a lure to draw you in, the secret of the rite's true purpose was kept even from my father. He knows this, but doesn't care as long as his goals are met. The fool," she murmured with a sad shake of her head.

My eyebrows shot up at that. 

"Then who does know? Who really orchestrated the event?" I asked. She sighed wearily.

"Your successor, Blood King. Lord Azazel."

(Yep. That's why they call Dark the King. Keep up.)


	34. 34

Jericho's POV:

"Now, to business," Fell smirked, his eyes flashing. I just barely repressed the urge to claw those stupid snake eyes out. He chuckled, letting me know he heard my violent thought. I pulled my arm back one last time, and for whatever reason, he let me go. I retreated a couple yards, rubbing my sore wrist as Fell held out another hand in front of his face. He conjured a small strand of golden shadow that weaved and darted its way through his fingers with a mesmerizing sort of grace. I avoided looking at them directly. He examined them absently as he spoke.

"As you know," he began, "you and Anjali became two independent beings. You're welcome, by the way," he said with playful wink. I scowled.

"In that respect, at least, I succeeded. But there were some rather unexpected outcomes to our little... game."

My body grew tense at his words. My brain completely flat lined with sheer disbelief at his flippant words that I knew were meant to hurt me.

A game. A game.

I looked at my feet, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists.  
My chest heated as blood began to roar in my ears. I shook with adrenaline. Pure, unadulterated rage filled the empty spaces in my head until all I could see was red. I tried to breath, slow and deep, tried to calm myself down as the visions that Fell put me through just a little over a week before came back full force. 

Agony. Terror. Blood. Grief. Helplessness and hopelessness and complete and utter despair. Every horrible second of the time I spent in that hell rose to the surface of my mind, the scars as raw and bloody as if they'd just happened. 

It was a game, All a game to him. A game that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. And I hated him for it.

I heard some vague, muffled words through the veil of my anger before a pair of feet stepped into my view. A finger lifted my chin gently as I struggled to regain control of my emotions, tilting my face upward to meet Fell's eyes, his face less than half a foot away from my own. 

He tilted his head as he examined me with an expression of vague curiosity. I trembled at the images that his face conjured, feeling helpless against the fear that assaulted me. I had to get away, I had to get away, I had to-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" I screamed, knocking his arm away from me and stumbling back as he watched me expressionlessly, "YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO TOUCH ME!!" 

I was practically hyperventilating now, standing in a half crouch like a wounded animal that didn't know whether to run or fight. 

I had the fleeting thought that these emotions at this intensity were extremely dangerous for an empath like a Druid, but that quickly fled my mind when Fell began to approach slowly, a predatory glint in his cold eyes. I backed away, matching him step for step as anger and terror warred within me, trying to decide whether or not to attack. 

Then he was suddenly gone. I whirled around quickly, aiming a punch at the monster behind me. He grunted as he caught my fist, and I was surprised to hear a slight crunching sound. He laughed and winced before regaining control enough to use his other hand to summon a ball of shadow that rammed into my chest, knocking me back a couple yards. I pushed myself to my feet with a snarl, ignoring the pain.

"Ah," Fell cringed with a little growling laugh as his shattered hand crackled, the bones and veins undulating and shifting visibly beneath his skin as it repaired itself. He sighed when the process was finally over, opening and closing his fist as his amused eyes turned to me.

"Well well well... that actually stung a bit, Jericho," he smirked, "be still, my poor black heart."

I didn't respond to his teasing with more than a glower. I had calmed myself down enough by then to know that charging him again would be very stupid. 

"I'm not going to disagree with you there," Fell murmured into the shell of my ear as his arms snaked around me to hold my back against him. I cried out in shock and began struggling. Shit!! When did he get behind me?!

"Please. Child's play," Fell scoffed. I fought valiently for three minutes before I realized I wasn't getting out of this any time soon. He wasn't playing with his food anymore, and I didn't have Anjali's power to protect me. After I stopped moving, he spoke.

"Are we done already? Such a shame," he crooned mockingly. I let out a gasp that quickly turned into a growl when he nipped at my earlobe and pulled me even tighter against him, pressing his hips forward. My face heated in humiliation when he chuckled at my reaction. I was too disgusted for words. 

"Now now, let's not be nasty," Fell laughed at my thought.

"Don't you have another Druid to play with?" I snarled before freezing. The atmosphere changed, got colder. 

"Anjali? Oh, love..." he buried his face in my neck so I could feel his grin.

"She's dead."


	35. 35

Azazel's POV:

I ran lithely across the rooftops, switching from smoke to solid to smoke again. Too bad I wasn't able to enjoy the rush.

As much of a pain as it was, it honestly wasn't surprising that ol' Alli had called in his favor by asking me for help. I have the biggest mental radar of any creature I know; some Demons exelled in combat, some exelled in strategy, but me? 

I'm a Paranormal bloodhound.

I was going to help anyway, but the geezer had to ruin my fun and forbid me from torturing his prisoners. Due to clause... what was it? Section A in clause...   
Ah, screw it. By House law I couldn't harm prisoners that belonged to him without his permission. 

Fuck did I ever hate that. 

Suddenly, I sensed a flash of a very familiar, very cute aura. There was only one Djinn with energy that disgustingly adorable. I grinned. 

"Ready or not, princess, here I come..."

Felix's POV:

"God, slow down will you?!" I shouted to Marzia and the little putple puff of smoke ahead of me. Marzia rolled her eyes as she and Virgo stopped to let me catch up. The Djinn solidified, a concerned look on her face. 

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"Just give him a moment," Marzia said with a yawn. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Well excuse me! We haven't all been on an assassin's training regimen our entire freakin' lives, Marzia," I snapped irritably before turning to Virgo.

"And you! Aren't Djinn's supposed to be able to teleport? Virgil did it!" 

She looked down sheepishly, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the ground.

"I'm, uhm... well, I'm not that talented..." she muttered. Well shit. Now I felt bad. 

"Look, I just- can't we supernaturally hotwire a car or something?" I asked wearily. Marzia shook her head. 

"Look around you, Felix; do you see any cars? All of the people are at home, frightened without knowing why. The only running car in a ghost town would attract attention," she explained. 

"That's why we've been running through alleys and backways too," Virgo chimed in, "to stay out of sight." 

"And how did that work out for you, princess?"

We drew our weapons and looked up at the source of the new voice. Virgo gasped and started shaking a little. 

"L-Lord Azazel, I..." she started to squeak before her voice just disappeared altogether. The newcomer that was perched two stories above our heads smirked at her as he fiddled with his gun.  
I stepped in front of her, hiding her trembling form from view.

"Calm down, get ahold of yourself. We've got you," I whispered without taking my eyes off of the prick she called 'Azazel.' She nodded and swallowed, composing herself. The guy jumped off the roof, cracking the concrete when his feet hit the ground and making us all wince.

"Do you have a weapon?" I asked urgently, training my guns on him  as approached leisurely. She wordlessly held out a hand as a... whatever it was appeared out of thin air. 

 

Her outfit changed too. One second she had a normal gothy teen look, and the next...

Wow.

 

We all took a second to stop and gawk at her. Even Azazel froze in his tracks.

I shook my head, letting out an incredulous huff. 

"Jesus christ. You done, sailor moon?" I asked.

"Alright, I've had enough of this shit."

We tensed again as Azazel's aura flared, training our weapons on him.

"Last chance, Princess," he warned, his eyes turning black, "Either you come willingly, or I tear your friends multiple new ones. What's it gonna be, darlin'?"

He grinned wickedly as Virgo hesitated.

"Go ahead and say no, princess..."  
He cocked his gun and aimed.  
"...make my day."

 

"You know good and well this would end in a fight either way, even if she did say yes. There's no Goddamn way you'd willingly let us walk," I snarled. He paused before shrugging blandly. 

"Hm. True." 

BANG.

 

 

 

 

Atticus' POV:

BANG.

I shot to my feet at the noise, running to the window to look for the source. It was a gunshot, I was sure of it. But it sounded both near and far away all at once, like I was hearing it from two different ears. I began to feel emotions that didn't make sense; fear, adtenaline, anger. It was confusing and frightening. Antioch looked up from the needles he was sharpening with an eyebrow raised.

"What? Did you finally lose it?" He quipped. His smile dropped when he saw my face, which I'm sure was white as a sheet.

"Woah, easy kid. What is it, another episode?" He asked, heading towards the bags, "sit down, I'll get the anesthesia. Hopefully this shit'll pass like last time." 

"NO!" I shouted, running behind Antioch to grab his arm. The last thing I needed was to sleep. He turned, surprised.

"What-" 

"We have to go, Antioch," I cut in urgently.  

"We have to go now."


	36. 36

"But a vague jealousy, one of those dormant jealousies that develop between brothers or sisters... keeps them constantly on the alert in a fraternal, unaggressive hostility. They do love each other, yet they kept an eye on each other."

-Guy de Maupassant, Pierre et Jean

Virgil's POV:

The door creaked open for the first time in six hours, flooding my cell with a harsh light that made me squint and wince. I groaned in discomfort and covered my face as my eyes struggled to adjust. I peeked through my fingers to see the silhouette of a slender girl, no more than five and a half feet. 

"...Virgo?" I asked the blurry figure hopefully. My heart dropped at the nasty little snicker that served as my answer. 

"Nice name, but it's not mine," the girl laughed. 

 

"Violet," I snarled as my twin sister came into view. She put a hand on her hip and smirked down at me smugly. 

"What, you couldn't tell? Aren't we supposed to have twintuition or something?" She asked, bitchily as always.

"No, but I know evil when I see it.  
Get thee behind me!" I shouted dramatically as I made a cross with my two middle fingers, "And kiss my ass while you're back there," I finished with a smirk.

"Wooooow. Tell me how you really feel, Gillie," she said blandly. I shrugged.

"I would, but I was only born with two middle fingers."

 

"UGH!" She shrieked, stamping her foot childishly, "you fucking never change!"

"Unfortunately, neither do you," I said, keeping my voice calm, "Can't I ignore you some other time, Lettie? I'm kinda busy."

"NO you painted WHORE!!" She yelled, her voice distorting a bit before she took a deep breath and stepping back. I smirked at the sight of her trying to regain her cool, stuffing her true psychotic nature back in that pretty little box. Just like old times.

"I've been called worse by better," I informed her dryly.

"We need to talk," she said, ignoring me as she smoothed down the hair that had fallen out of place in her outburst. I grinned and sat forward with my chin on my hand.

"Alright, let's talk. Who knows, you might even say something intelligent."

"RRRAAAAH!!" She screamed, baring her teeth as her aura flared around her. Ah, there was the twin I knew: the bipolar basket case psycho-bitch. Good times.

"Shut up!!"

"Really? This shit again? C'mon Lettie, you've got the whole year to be a bitch; why not take today off?" I mocked. Her face twisted into a vicious snarl.

"I'm going to carve your heart out of your chest and force it down your throat! I'm going to hang your intestines on the ceiling like party streamers! That's only if you don't die before I rip your spinal chord out and beat you with it, and THAT'S only if you don't die before I remove your jaw and MAKE YOU BITE YOUR OWN DICK OFF YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" 

If I was anyone else, anyone else in the world, even dark, I might have been the slightest bit afraid. But I was Virgil Sanders. 

And Virgil Sanders don't take no shit from nobody.

"It's hilarious watching you fit your whole vocabulary into a single sentence," I said, my voice still casual, "and I think you mean brother of a bitch."

That did it.

She shrieked and leapt at me, teeth bared and crazy eyes turned up to the max, ready to rip me apart. I waited until the very last second to roll out of the way, letting her crash into the wall. I yanked her sword out of the sheath on her hip and held it against her throat as I caught her in a one arm choke hold with my free side. She froze at the touch of cold metal against her neck. I grinned. 

"Time to make a wish, Violet."

 

Sean's POV:

"Well that explains a lot," said Mark after a moment when I was finally done with my explanation of the house. 

"No, it probably doesn't. It's a lot to take in," I sighed, "But at least you guys have someone to walk you through it; I had to figure this shit out on my own!" I said. 

"True," admitted Chica, "But at least you weren't a dog trying to understand all this."

"Chica, you learned English," I reminded her exhasperatedly. 

"Wait. What was that?" She asked suddenly, sniffing the air rapidly. There were a couple of  restless shuffling sounds from both her and Mark.

"Shit. What now?" Groaned Mark. Chica sneezed several times before sniffing again, as if doing a double-take with her nose. 

"It's Virgil."

"This again?" I asked dryly, ignoring the pang of guilt in my chest at the mention of his name.

"No! I don't know how, but it's him!" She insisted urgently, "and he's coming this way. Look, Mark!"

I'm assuming they joined minds in the next second, because both of them began glowing very faintly. A few seconds passed before Mark jolted and made a shocked noise. 

"Oh my God... she's right!" He exclaimed, "he's almost-" 

The door swung open before he'd finished speaking, cracking  against the wall with a loud bang.   
A familiar form gradually came into view as my eyes adjusted to the light. My jaw dropped.

He was definitely the worse for wear; His clothes were torn, his purple hair disheveled and messy. He was covered in bruises, cuts, and dried blood. The little eye makeup that remained on his face was badly smudged. 

But through all the dirt and grime and blood, that lazy slouch and smug expression were unmistakable:

"VIRGIL?!" We shouted in an incredulous unison. He smirked.

"Sup, bitches?"


	37. 37

Jericho's POV:

I stood there stiffly in his cold arms, wide-eyed and mute with shock as his words echoed back and forth in my head like a skipping record. 

Dead

Anjali is dead.

I didn't respond but to slowly shake my head, numb with disbelief. I felt Fell remove his lips from my neck with one final icy kiss. I'd barely noticed him moving against my skin through my daze.

"Ah, denial. Such a strange phenomenon," he mused, resting his chin on top of my head, "I'll wait," he chuckled. I actually did have to take a couple more seconds to come back to myself enough to speak.

"Anjali... how..." I tried to ask. I spoke softly, haltingly, unable to fully voice the question. 

"How did she die?" Fell finished for me, "By my hand, of course. I would think that obvious."

"But why?" I whispered brokenly. The golden mist that drifted lazily around us began to blur as hot tears welled up in my eyes. She didn't deserve this. Any of it. Fell had torn out her heart, crushed her spirit, and ripped her soul apart, all on a whim and without a second thought. He infected her and corrupted her, warping her into something dark that her past self wouldn't have recognized. And after everything he forced on her, when he'd finally stolen the last vestiges of her light...

He had destroyed her.

Fell finally released me, turning me to face him. 

"Sweet, sweet Jericho..." Fell crooned softly. His cold hands rose up to cradle my face, making me gasp and flinch when he made contact with my skin. His thumbs stroked across my cheeks, wiping my tears away as they fell. 

"No, no, sh-sh-sh..." he soothed, drawing more helpless tears from me, "I know, little thing, I know. Don't cry."

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at his face.

"Why?" I asked again, my voice cracking. 

"She was no longer necessary," Fell said simply. He pressed his lips to my forehead.

"All I need now is you," he whispered against my skin. 

Anger began to burn in me again at his words, staving off my numbness. I pushed his hands off my face and backed up, roughly wiping the rest of my tears off my face. 

"Well you can't have me," I growled, "What the hell did you mean by saying she wasn't necessary? Didn't you need her for your precious runes?" I demanded. 

"I did," he nodded, seemingly unaffected by my outburst, "but therein lies the first of the unexpected outcomes I mentioned earlier."

"Shortly after I aquired my former bound, I traveled to Munich to meet with the current Demon Lord. Ah, that's right. You've met, haven't you?" he said, seeing the recognition of the term in my eyes, "I must apologize for my brutish associate. He can be a bit... abrasive."

"In any case, I knew the first thing I would have to do would be to unlock the runes within Anjali, a task that would require both a hefty sacrifice and more than one power source. So I sought out the Demon and Druid Kings, both of whom would benefit from the event in their own ways."

"It was you!" I said, my eyes widening before narrowing in disgust, "You monster. Those people were innocent!" I shouted. He smirked at my ire.

"Yes. A bit unfair, isn't it? But the most important part of my little anecdote isn't the means, but the end. Imagine my surprise," he said as he began to circle me like a predator, "when I found that my only hope to regain my true power, the runes I had coveted for so long... were gone." 

I turned as he walked around me, never letting him out of my sight. I hid my shock and unease, keeping my expression blank. I had a bad feeling about where he was going with this...

"I knew, of course, that this would always be a possibility," he continued when I stayed silent, "So, I allowed Anjali to take over and then diverge from you on her own, allowing both of you to live. Can you guess why, Jericho?" He asked me, his tone dangerously casual. 

"No," I said, even as I was filled with dread at the answer I already knew. Fell grinned, coming to a halt and turning to face me fully. 

"Because the runes are within you."

Felix's POV:

BANG.

 

Azazel's gun sounded with a sudden deafening crack that tore through the silence of the empty streets like a loud clap of thunder. 

Everything slowed to a near stop as my instincts took control. My eyes automatically analyzed the angle and trajectory of his gun, predicting the exact path and destination of the bullet in the span of a millisecond. 

My body responded immediately on its own before the trigger was even halfway home, as natural and reflexive as breathing. My hands flew upward towards my chest in a blur, positioning my weapons over the most important square millimeter of my body in that moment. 

I grunted as the bullet hit, jarring my wrists and hands with the force of the impact. The warped bead of metal bounced harmlessly off of my blades and fell to the ground, bouncing off the pavement with three bright clinks before spinning to a halt at its owner's feet. 

The world returned to its normal speed as both ally and foe alike gawked at me in amazement. I smirked at Azazel, taking great pleasure in the dumbfounded look on his face. He recovered quickly though, his expression clearing.

"A Seether, huh?" He said flatly, eyes narrowing, "Will wonders never cease."

 

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," I grinned, "I'm practically a walking minefield."

He returned my grin, drawing a bowie knife from his belt with his left hand as we both cocked our guns again. 

"Let's dance."

The lifeless street exploded into pandemonium as three simultaneous shots were fired. I purposely aimed one of the guns straight for the barrel of his so that the bullets collided with a loud pop, falling uselessly to the ground. I dodged the other bullet so that I could shoot my remaining one towards his chest. Unfortunately, he dodged at the same time I did, so I missed, but I'm not gonna lie; I still felt pretty badass anyway. 

Marzia and Virgo began to follow suit with their own weapons, Marzia with her throwing knives and Virgo with her Scythe. Virgo didn't have a long range weapon, so she had to dart in when Azazel was distracted with Marzia and I, retreating quickly before he could get to her. It was extremely dangerous for Virgo and little more than an annoyance for her target, who blocked her with his shadows. 

I was reminded of our skirmish with Anjali, when we had to gang up on her by filling in the empty spaces between each other's attacks. We just had to keep him busy, keep his attention divided. 

"AH!"

Virgo suddenly screamed and fell to the ground, dropping her weapon with a clatter. Blood spurted from a wound in her shoulder; the last time Azazel had blocked with his shadows, he'd used one of them as a knife. 

"VIRGO!" I shouted, "Virgo, hang in there!" 

Marzia and I doubled our efforts, desperate to keep him distracted from the Djinn behind him. The second he had the time, he would finish the job. 

It was about two minutes later that Marzia finally landed a hit. 

Her knife struck true, embedding itself in his shoulder and splattering his face with blood. I noted with intense satisfaction that his wound matched Virgo's. 

I fired six rapid shots into his chest, causing him to stumble back with a deep shout of pain, slamming into the wall and slumping to the ground. His eyes fluttered closed as Marzia and I stood there, catching our breath. 

"Virgo!" I exclaimed, belatedly remembering our wounded friend. I rushed over to carry her limp body away from Azazel's, making her moan weakly in discomfort as her shoulder was jostled. She didn't look good; she was sweating and breathing in short little gasps, and I could tell how pale she was even through her makeup. I laid her down as gently as I could when we reached the other side of the street. 

"Marzia, can you-" I started to say, but was interrupted by the absolute last voice I expected to hear: 

"Well that was anticlimactic." 

Marzia and I whirled around to see Anti standing behind us, looking unamused. Neither of us knew what to say in our shock, but Anti ended up filling the silence.

"The fuck is this, kid? I thought you said it was an emergency," the Demon said, raising an eyebrow in annoyance at a little kid beside him that I hadn't seen before. He couldn't have been older than ten. Did Anti kidnap him or something?

"It is!" The boy exclaimed angrily in an English accent, throwing his arms towards us as if Anti was blind, "There's a bleeding girl on the ground, in case you hadn't noticed!" 

"Was that a British expression, or...?"

"Just do something!!" 

"Ugh. Fine, I'll take care of it, bleeding heart," Anti grumbled. He started to approach us, but Marzia and I got over our surprise and stood, blocking his path. 

"No God damn way, Glitch bitch," I growled, "I don't know what the fuck you're doing here, but we're not just gonna let you-" 

"Okay first of all, fucking rude," Anti snapped, "Second, who has two middle fingers and saved your sorry asses from the runaway Druid? Oh yeah; this guy," he said as he shot us the double bird before crossing his arms.

"Step aside, Don Juan. Unless this chic really isn't as important to you as you're acting like she is. If so then by all means, stay where you are," he said flatly. Marzia and I hesitated before reluctantly standing aside. Anti huffed and walked past us, grumbling the entire time. I watched as he conjured a vial of some sort of blue substance that he poured over Virgo's wound. Suddenly, the kid let out a little yelp and turned away, frantically rubbing his eyes.  
Anti glanced over his shoulder. 

"Oh yeah; don't look, I'm switching on the lights for this," he said.

"Yeah, thanks for the bloody warning, you arse," the boy snapped back. I walked around the kid so I could face him as Anti worked. I was confused about their little exchange, but I didn't mention it.

"Hey. Are you with him?" I asked, "did he kidnap you?" 

"Well... yes and yes. But I'm fine," he assured me quickly before I could get pissed at Anti, "I didn't have much of a life to be taken from. He can be a bit of an arse hole, but honestly, these have been two of the better weeks in my life."

I was honestly shocked. I thought Anti was a textbook villain; why did this kid like him? Or at least care for him. 

"Welp, that's a wrap," said the Demon in question as he tossed the empty vial into the air where it disappeared in a puff of green fire, "see you all at the ball."

"What-" Marzia began to ask before the boy suddenly let out a strangled cry. 

"Wait. Antioch, remember what I said about this being an emergency?" He whispered shakily. 

"Uh... yeah?"

"Well I think this might be the emergency bit," the kid said, raising one trembling hand to point across the street. We followed his prompt to see...

"Oh shit," I hissed, drawing my guns again. 

Across the street, Azazel stirred, his black eyes snapping open to glare straight at us. He picked up his knife and gun and pushed himself up. He wiped the blood from his neck and examined it absently. 

 

 

"...Ouch," he said simply before closing his fist on the blood. 

"Oh for the love of- fucking really?" Anti groaned, "a revival charm? Cheap trick, man."

"Well if it isn't the Anti the garden snake," chuckled the newly risen Demon, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Aw, now I feel bad. I can't remember your name," pouted Anti before looking up and pretending to think.

"What was it, what was it... Hazel? Razzle-dazzel? Pizzazz...el?" He mused. Azazel's expression darkened with fury. 

 

"Call me by the wrong name again and I'll castrate you and shove your green eggs and ham down your throat, you fuckin' bean stalk!" He shouted, his voice distorting deeply in a way that made everyone except for Anti cringe. 

"Yo, Don Juan," Anti said, voice casual, "get the Djinn and Atticus out of here. It's about to get hot in this kitchen," he grinned.


	38. 38

Yo I added on to the last chapter last night, so if you haven't read it, go do that.

Sean's POV:

"Sup, bitches?" Virgil smirked. 

"What... how the fuck...?" I managed to get out. Virgil sighed before snapping his fingers. All of our shackles suddenly dissolved in a burst of sparkling purple dust.

"Good to see you too, luigi; glad my princesses weren't in another castle," he said as he turned and left the room. He turned his head back to grin over his shoulder.

"You coming?" 

Mark, Chica and I shot each other dumbfounded looks before scrambling to follow him into the unsurprisingly medieval looking stone passageway. 

"Seriously dude, how are you alive?" I demanded as we caught up, "we saw you die!" 

"It's a really long story. I don't have the time or the crayons to explain it to you three doofuses right now."

"Yep. That's definetly Virgil," Mark muttered. Virgil chuckled.

"Damn right. But I wasn't kidding when I said it was good to see you two, you know," he said with a smile- a real one- over his shoulder.

"We're glad to have you back too, man," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a grin. He jolted a bit in surprise before scowling through his obvious blush.

"Well... good," he muttered. 

 

Suddenly, there was the sound of multiple pairs of feet clopping against the stone floor from around the corner. We froze in our tracks, looking at each other. 

"...that's not good," said Virgil. 

 

"Shit, what do we do?" I hissed to Virgil as the noises drew nearer. 

"Um... well I could teleport us out of here..." he said slowly.

"Great! Let's go with that," Mark urged hurriedly. 

"...but I wouldn't have any control over the destination. I don't have enough power from my last wish," Virgil finished with an apologetic look. I quietly face palmed. 

"You know what? Fuck it. Beam us up, scotty," I said, putting my hand back on his shoulder as Mark did the same. Chica jumped up so that both paws were on his chest. 

"You asked for it," Virgil sighed. With a snap of his fingers, we were gone.


	39. 39

Felix's POV:

"Yo, Don Juan," Anti said, his voice casual, "get the Djinn and Atticus out of here. It's about to get hot in this kitchen," he grinned.

"What? When did you move to France? You do it, I'm staying!" I growled.

"Felix is right, Demon," Marzia said, putting Virgo on her shoulder as gently as possible, "Swallow your pride and accept his help. I will return soon."

With that, she began jogging away. I was surprised and impressed at her willingness to swallow her pride and leave the fight behind. 

The boy- Atticus, I think- hesitated. 

"Go, kid. I'm right behind you," Anti said with a quick jerk of his head. Neither of us took our eyes off of Azazel as Atticus backed away before running in the direction Marzia had gone. 

Azazel smirked as Anti and I spread out and began to circle him. Anti conjured a mace that- not gonna lie- looked pretty sick. 

 

"You know, the last thing I thought I'd see is the infamous Snake getting all cuddly with the humans," he said. His smile actually faltered a bit then, looking more perplexed than smug.   
"What happened to you, man?" 

Anti stopped for a second before continuing our pattern. He shrugged, whipping out the crazy grin and giggle he was so famous for.

"Well, you know what they say about the enemy of my enemy. Isn't that right, Pewds?" He smirked.

"The last thing I'd call you is my friend," I scoffed, "but whatever helps you feel important."

Alright, that's enough fucking around," snapped Azazel, whipping out his gun and knife, "let's get this freak show on the fucking road!"

"God dammit," sighed Anti, "really? A Colt and a Bowie knife? Fuckin' cowboy," He shook his head and raised his mace. 

"This isn't my first rodeo, either. Let's go."

The thunder of guns and the clang of metal rang out for the second time that day.

Atticus' POV:

"Faster, boy! Don't make me carry you!" Marzia threatened from ahead of me. I could tell she had intentionally slowed down a little to let me catch up, but I was still struggling. 

I already knew all of their names from each of the Ness' visions that I had vicariously experienced; Marzia, Mark, Felix, Amy, Sean, Signe, Mikhail, Dark, and my personal favorite, Chica there had been a very brief vision of purple light, but I hadn't stuck around to see who it belonged to before I was dragged into the underground with Jericho.

I'd caught brief glimpses of their lights and personalities at first sight, but nothing compared to witnessing them first hand. Even as my chest and lungs protested, I couldn't stop marveling at the two lights in front of me.

 

 

Marzia's light was a bright orange-red that lashed out wildly around her like hundreds of little whips flying the air, incredibly fierce and potent. 

The other girl, who now I assumed wasn't human, had a soft ligh made of varying shades of purple. Misty strands wafted gently around her, calming and serene. 

I had seen a lot of strange lights lately, the strangest of which had to be Antioch's. Not because of the unusual color or texture, but because of what was happening to it. 

In the past two weeks, I had witnessed not one, but two phenomenons that I had thought were impossible: a black light...

And a changing one.

Whether he knew it or not, Antioch's light had mellowed, morphing into a deep emerald green rather than his previous neon acid hue. I didn't quite know what was causing it; what I did know was that anything was better than the bright, venemous green of my childhood. It was a change for the better. 

"Stop here. This is far enough," Marzia called back to where I lagged ten meters behind. She layed the girl out carefully on the sidewalk before standing and drawing a double sided sword-staff off of her back. She moved something I couldn't see, and there were suddenly two independant swords in each of her hands. 

"Stay here. We will be back soon," Marzia said before sprinting back in the other direction. I looked after her for a moment before sitting down beside the girl.

It would be okay. It had to be. 

Suddenly, the girl's hand shot out and wrapped around my ankle, making me jump. I looked down to see her eyes wide with panic.

"V-Virgil," she stammered, "It's Virgil, he's free! We have to go!!"


	40. 40

Felix's POV:

I was really getting the hang of this whole Seether thing.

It got easier every time; at first, every battle that I used my powers in was just as much a fight with myself as it was with the enemy. 

When my instincts took over, it was like letting go of a ledge I'd been holding onto for dear life. It was difficult to just let myself fall like that, to let myself feel like I wasn't fully in control. Like I wasn't even fully human. I had  almost killed Marzia while raging, after all. 

I learned to embrace it though; in the multiple training sessions with Marzia and Mikhail that past week, I'd found a happy medium between knee-jerk reactions and thinking for myself. The result?

I was a one man apocalypse. 

I'd never been so glad to have guns that didn't need to reload. Azazel had long since run out of bullets in three separate guns and was now duel wielding a long, scary- looking machete with his knife. I could see why Anti had called him cowboy; between the weapons and his flannel getup, all he was missing was a ten gallon stetson and boots.

The two Demons were battling it out in front while I hung back, firing as soon as I had a shot. Unfortunately, Azazel was doing a great job of keeping Anti between us, so that was rare. And he kept watching the barrels of my guns, dissolving the parts of his body that I was aiming for before I could even get to them. 

God, what a pain. 

"This clown is even more of a snake than you, dude," I remarked dryly when Anti dissolved and flew backwards to join me after finally landing a hit with his mace. My unlikely ally just grinned and licked the blood off of his weapon as Azazel stared us down, holding the jagged wound in his gut. 

"That's the free last hit you fucks land on me!" Azazel shouted, chest heaving, "limbs are comin' off!!"

Anti snorted.

"Come on, Razzle dazzel! Is that really the best you got? You're off your game, man." 

"Shut it, worm!" Growled the black-eyed Demon, "I'm gonna have a lotta fun reshaping your ass to fit my boot."

Anti glanced above Azazel's head  before grinning wickedly at him.

"Speaking of nice pieces of ass..." he snickered. 

Suddenly, a silver blur shot down from somewhere above the King's head, striking him like a living meteor shower. There was a flurry of motion that I was too shocked to even begin to track:

Azazel's head snapped to the side, almost to the point of breaking.  

One of his arms cracked at an odd angle, causing him to drop both his weapons to reflexively hold it. 

Finally, he was dropped swiftly to the pavement as his legs were swept out from under him, sending him crashing sideways onto his shoulder. 

And there, glaring coldly down at  the incapacitated Demon, was Marzia Bisognin in full Elite armor, her steel clad foot planted firmly on his chest. 

...wait. did Antisepticeye just call my girlfriend a nice piece of ass? Oh hell no.

Anti reacted faster than I did. He had dissolved and shot over Before Azazel was even floored, reforming with two of his needles in hand. Once Marzia had him pinned, into the neck they went,  drawing a hoarse scream from their victim. Within seconds, the punctured skin was surrounded by gnarly green veins. When I got closer the sight became way more cringe-worthy; if I looked closely, I could see that they pulsed and squirmed slightly under the skin, like worms. 

Or... snakes. Gross. 

"Ouch. Yeah, maybe two was a little much," Anti mused, ripping the needles out roughly and at an angle and giggling at the weak groan he was rewarded with.

"Yeah, I'd make peace with Satan if I were you, Hazel. Cause you're gonna overdose in about, oh..." Anti checked an invisible wristwatch, "five, seven minutes. Tops," he finished smugly. His victim's eye's widened in surprise before narrowing, his teeth bared in rage. 

"You think you won?" He hissed, "you think you've got this thing in the bag? That it'll all be this god damned easy? It doesn't matter how many of us you kill, doesn't matter how high up the food chain you-" 

He was cut off by his own short breath as his trachea visibly spasmed, sending him into a twenty second coughing fit as Anti looked on, grinning at his handiwork. When the hacking subsided, the Demon Lord fixed us with a dark smirk. 

"...You kids don't know shit. You'd better find out what's what quick, because if someone doesn't fix the scales in this world... they'll tip, and you'll be as fucked as me," he laughed, making himself wince and cough. 

Anti continued to heckle him for the next minute or so, obviously unaffected by his ominous warning. It got to me though. What had those Elves said...? That prophetic speech that was seared into my memory...

\-------------

"She disturbed the natural order and set events in motion that spilled oceans of blood. She alone tilted the Earth on its very axis in a way that even her passing cannot hope to correct..."

"Anjali must emerge, and with her the scars she made. This world's oldest wounds must be torn open once again before they can heal. The earth will shake before it's  balance is restored..."

\-------------------- 

Shaking myself out of the vivid memory, I quickly kneeled next to Azazel, putting the cold steel of one of my blades against the moss green veins on his throat. Anti and Marzia stepped back in surprise.

"The scales, you said something about the scales. What did you mean?" I demanded urgently, "does this have something to do with Anjali? With the 'balance of the world?' Tell me!!" I yelled, pressing the knife harder to his neck when he just smiled. 

"Do it," he said, leaning into the blade, "I'm dead anyway."

 

I snarled in frustration and stood, whirling to face Anti. 

"Antidote. Now," I growled. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

"Easy there, tiger. There isn't one," he said slowly, looking slightly uneasy for the first time that day. We all turned at Azazel's loud laughter that alternated between violent coughs. 

"Oh man- gck- y-you guys... you   
g-guys are s-so... heh... screwed..." 

With that, the Demon Lord's heart stopped, his last breath escaping his chest in a soft rattling sigh. 

"Nononononono," I chanted, throwing down my knives and grabbing his face roughly, shaking it as I searched for some sign of life in his black eyes.

"NO! You don't GET to die, god damnit! Not until you tell me what I need to know!!" I yelled. A soft hand came down on my shoulder, silencing me. I looked up to see Marzia crouching beside me with a sympathetic look in her eyes. 

"If he knew, then Fell did too. All is not lost, Felix," she said gently. After a moment, I nodded, letting  go of Azazel and allowing her to pull me up and plant a short kiss on my cheek. 

"Felix and Marzia, sittin' in a tree! F-U-C-K-I-N-G!" sang Anti with a giggle. I shot him a glare, just barely restraining myself from putting a bullet in him.

"Could you fucking not?" I snapped. Anti ignored me, going back to survey his handiwork.

"Hmm... I would say you're welcome, but it looks like I cost you just as much as I helped," Anti mused before grinning cheekily back at us, "Sorry 'bout that." 

True to form, the Glitch Bitch sounded more flippant than apologetic. I rolled my eyes. 

"Whatever. Why are you even here? And why did you help us?" I asked suspiciously. He shrugged.

"Uh... charity? Hey, where'd you leave my comic relief? He has separation anxiety."

"Somehow I doubt that," said Marzia dryly, "but he's about a half kilometer in that direction with the Djinn girl," she jerked a thumb behind her. She was about to say something to me, probably suggesting that we get moving, when she was cut off. 

"Uh... no he's not," Anti said. My eyebrows shot up.

"What?" I asked incredulously as a small pit of anxiety formed in my stomach.

"I said, he's not there," he repeated irritably, "in fact, neither of them are. I checked." He closed his eyes.

"They're moving due east, probably sprinting... a bunch of other energy signatures just popped up... oh," he stopped, opening his eyes in surprise.

"Well, shit." 

"What is it now?" I asked worriedly. Anti giggled again, somehow managing to sound slightly troubled.

"Uh... they're gone."


	41. 41

Dark's POV: 

"Hello, Allistair. Good to see you, as always," I said, tilting my head in calm acknowledgement even as I wrestled my anger down. Now was not the time to go on the offensive, not when they had Jericho. 

"Hello, Ayiya. Or Dark now, I suppose," Allistair amended, "I don't know why you insist on changing your full name every time you gain a new host. Antioch has used that name for nearly his entire life, and even The Fallen one keeps something constant with his moniker but you," he examined me curiously, "you do not. Why?" 

I blinked. 

"Why am I here, Allistair?" I asked. He sighed, seeing that I wasn't in the mood for the type of banter I'd been forced to endure in my time as King. 

 

"As my guest," the old Djinn said simply. My eyes followed him closely as he walked over to a cabinet that was installed in the far corner of the room. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. 

"Drink?" He offered over his shoulder as he poured, "it's 

"...Allistair."

"More for me," he shrugged. 

"Allistair," I growled, flaring my aura. My patience was wearing thin. 

"Why. Am. I. Here."

"Once again, as my guest. If a bit unwillingly," he said, leaning against the wall and idly swirling his drink, "but also for assurance. The house is eager to meet The Outsiders, Old King. Whether or not you are a threat to us remains to be seen. Who's to say the havoc you've wrought amongst the common paranormals won't spread? You know the danger of making waves in our world."

"You couldn't have just asked for an audience?" I ground out. He raised an eyebrow from behind his glass.

"Would you have come?"

"..."

He nodded.

"Hm. I thought not."

"So what are we supposed to do?" I asked irrately.

"Attend the ball tommorrow.  
Under our surveillance, on our field, in a controlled enviroment. Let the others judge your intentions and make yourselves plain. Do this, and no harm will come to you," he answered plainly for once. I held his gaze for a moment before sighing.

"God, I hate politics," I muttered. Allistair laughed.

"Well, as the only Demon King in history to survive the throne, I suppose it's only natural. So you'll be there?" He clarified.

"You have my companions and my bound," I snapped, "I don't have a choice."

"True enough," he acquiesced. Suddenly, his head shot towards the door in alarm. I felt it a split second later:

Sean. Mark. Chica. They were on the move below us. However, I still couldn't feel Jericho, so I had no way of knowing if she was with them. Damnit....

"You know your situation," Allistair said lowly, "so stay within the alarm wards in this room. I will see you tomorrow... old friend."

With that, he disappeared in a cloud of royal purple smoke. I growled at the space he'd left vacant.

When I had Jericho back, it would be a dark day for the Djinn house.


	42. 42

Sean's POV:

We reappeared with a loud pop and the expected puff of wind as the air particles around us were displaced in a rush. I immediately keeled over with a groan like I'd  been punched in the gut, just barely resisting the urge to vomit. Chica licked my face, and I was too tired to stop her. 

"I. Hate. Teleporting," I muttered. Virgil slapped a hand on my back roughly, making me gag and him smirk. I glared darkly at his amused smirk, brushing his hand off as I straightened.

"Having trouble there, green?"

"Didn't take you long to get back on my bad side, did it?" I asked flatly. Virgil shrugged as a shit eating grin made its way onto his face that I eventually reciprocated; I was too happy to have him back to be pissed at the moment. 

"Ah, whatever. Where the fuck are we, anyway?" I asked as I tried to hide my smile. Virgil flung his arms out in an exaggerated shrug as if to say, 'why are you asking me?'

"Didn't you here me? I. Don't. Know," he enunciated plainly. 

 

"Well, we're not very far from where we were... it still smells pretty much the same. Only this time, there's..." Chica wrinkled her nose, and perked her head up, stiffening.

"Uh-oh. That's never a good sign," Mark said, looking at Chica warily as she growled.

"C'mon, we have to keep moving," said virgil, jerking his head as he started off to indicate we should follow.

"Not that way!" Chica called. She ran to the front.

"Let me lead. You guys might be able to sense energy, but animals can do that anyway, and I've got the nose to match."

Virgil rolled his eyes.

"Fine. With all these mixed power signatures, I can't tell what's what anyway. What does it smell like? Didfferent than before?"

"Um... if I had to put words to the smell..." Chica said slowly, "I'd say they smelled... sweet? But a bad sweet. Too sweet. It's making me nauseous..."  she whined. Virgil and I looked at each other.

"Nagas," we said in a grim unison. 

"Pick up the pace, Chica," I urged. 

"Wait wait wait," Mark protested, adjusting Jericho in his arms as we began a light jog, "The sex snakes? Nagas are the sex snakes, right?"

"We get it Mark, you're adorable," snapped Virgil. Mark blinked.

"I... thanks?"

"The smell is getting stronger! I think they're following us!" Chica shouted in our minds. It was true; if I reached out, I could feel their presences getting closer.

"Fuck!! put your shirts over your faces," Virgil commanded. He slipped off his jacket and tied it around Mark's mouth without halting in his stride.

"it's impossible to completely avoid the pheromones, but stave it off as long as you can!" 

"What about Chica?" Asked Mark. We were running by this point.

"She's not a humanoid, so she's fine."

"I... I can't tell how many there are!" Chica whined. 

"It doesn't matter," Virgil said grimmly, "we're all male; it'll only take one." 

"What?!" Chica barked, "oh sure, forget the dog, she doesn't count. Typical," she snorted with something like a mental eyeroll.

"Oh damn. She's right," said Virgil  as if just realizing. He stopped suddenly, drawing questioning looks from the rest of us. 

"How long do you think you could hold them off while I charge up a wish? There're probably only one or two," Virgil told Chica. Chica shook herself and sat down, fixing the Djinn with her trademark lopsided grin. 

"Long as you need, buddy."

"Good. Alrighty, who's up?" Virgil asked, turning to Mark and me. Mark stepped forward before I could. 

"Sean already helped out with Anjali; I got this," he said determinedly, "how much is it gonna take?" 

Before Virgil could answer, two Naga rounded the corner, hissing as they slithered towards us at top speed. The three of us groaned and doubled over as the full weight of their pheromones hit us; I had to hold myself back from just keeling over and letting them take me. Ugh. Chica snarled and burst into angry red flames before leaping forward to tackle them head on. 

 

(FemaleFury28 from Deviantart)

 

"Quick, give me your sword," Virgil yelled to Mark over the sounds of battle after he'd recovered a bit. He was sweating bullets with the strain.

"Yeah," Mark fumbled with his sword before tossing it to the Djinn, "I wish you could teleport us to the street! Do your thing!" 

By the rate the sword began dissolving, it looked like it would be thirty seconds or so. 

"Chica! Wrap it up quick!" Mark called weakly. Mark and I were leaning hunched against the wall for the  support our boneless legs couldn't provide.

"Shock collar treatment comin' right up!" Chica snarled. She leapt back from the Nagas to create some distance.

"Chica... CHUUUUUUU!!" She shouted with a howl. A deafening crack of thunder sounded in the claustrophobic tunnel as several powerful bolts of blue lightning engulfed the Nagas. They went down immediately, convulsing on the ground. 

"No comment, let's just go," Virgil groaned. 

We all grabbed on, and with a final pop-


	43. 43

Atticus' POV:

"V-Virgil," she stammered, "It's Virgil, he's free! We have to go!!" 

With that, she dissolved and shot down the street without another word.

"Wha- hey! Miss, wait!" I shouted, leaping to my feet and sprinting after the glittering purple puff of vapor that she had become. I vaulted over street rubbish and news stands as I gave chase, nearly falling on my face several times in the process. I was so glad I wasn't wearing that suit anymore.

In retrospect, the fact that I kept the violet nimbus in my sights for a full five minutes was a bloody miracle. She moved even faster than Marzia had, flying through the streets like a ghostly fighter jet. 

"Miss, wait!" I called after her for the umpteenth time, "Slow dow-"

I was cut off by a stray pamplet of some sort advertising a product that can't have been more important than my footing at that moment. I had the good sense to brace myself before the impact so that I fell onto my knees and forearms rather than my face. That didn't make it hurt any less, though. 

I shook my head to pull myself together as I pushed off the ground. I looked around for any glimpse of purple as I dusted myself off. It was too late; I'd lost her. I was alone.

I sighed and turned to walk back in the direction I'd come from... only to realize that I had no bloody clue which direction that was. I'd chased that girl through nearly five minutes of twists and turns through this maze of a city. I groaned, running my fingers roughly through my curly hair.

"Well isn't this just bloody brilliant?" I grumbled to the empty air.

"Sorry, my British is a little rusty," came an irreverent voice from somewhere behind me. I froze; I knew that voice. 

I would never forget that voice as long as I lived.

\--------------------------

Tomatin, Scotland, one year prior:

We were trapped. Two Police cars blocked the road on either side of us. They had just called for backup, so who knew how many were on their way. There were no alleyways to duck into, no way to disappear. Solomon and I would be caught, and it would only be a matter of time before Sarah was too.

We might never see each other again.

I had never been one to pray; it seemed like begging to me. I had never believed in any higher power, whether it be a neglectful omnipresent being or the existence of some universal balance and order. I believed in only myself and my own strength of will to change my circumstances. 

I had never begged for help in my life.

But in that moment of powerlessness and fear, I began to wish. I wished to the universe, I wished to God, to the spirit of my mother... I even wished to my uncle Atticus, whom I'd never met. I wished for strength. I wished for the protection and security I couldn't provide for us on my own. I wished for a way out of an impossible situation. 

I sqeezed my eyes shut tight against my harsh reality like the child I was never allowed to be. 

I closed my eyes and wished and willed and prayed.

And then...

"Damn, I thought this shit only happened in movies," came an irreverent voice from a little ways behind us.

There, standing at indolent ease on top of one of the police cars, was a young man. His clothes were rumpled and torn, his dirty blond hair disheveled and mussed. Dark rings that looked more like bruises  circled his exhausted eyes that sunk into his thin, bony face. He was grossly emaciated as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, a fact that was made painfully obvious by the way his wet clothes clung to his skinny frame. And yet, through it all, a cheeky smirk adorned his pale face as he cooly observed the scene from his perch.

His aura was a stunning bright purple that rolled lazily through the air like water. There were occasional deviations in the slow rhythm; twitches, flicks, and sometimes spasms of the sleepy ribbons would occur at sudden and random intervals, suggesting that there were more thorns on this rose than met the eye.

But those were normal things, nothing unusual save the rare color. What really scared me was the intensity; the very moment I saw it I knew, without a doubt, that this man was not human. 

"Oy! Whad'ya think yer doin,' mate?" Barked the officer nearest the stranger, "are ye off yer trolley?"

"Sod off piss pot, this don't concern you!" Yelled the other, drawing his tazer and passing us to approach him. The newcomer, who had the audacity to look surprised by the lawmen's outbursts, raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

"Woah, woah," he chuckled, "can't a starving humanoid rassel himself a meal in peace?" 

The officers looked at each other as Solomon and I did the same, but not out of confusion. Whoever this man was, he was our ticket out. With a single silent nod to each other, we began backing away slowly as the strange scene before us escalated. 

"Not sure what yer on about," called the first officer, "but if you don't geddoff my bleedin' boot-" 

"Fine," the man cut in flatly. To the amazement of all present, he dissolved into a cloud of bright purple smoke which formed a  ribbon of mist that sifted gracefully through the air, gliding like an eel through water. Solomon and I stiffened as it approached us, prompting the dumbfounded officers to turn in our direction as well. Smashing; there went our window.

We stumbled backwards as the man suddenly reappeared in front of us, his smirk widening at our reactions. 

"Alright, listen up; We've got about twenty seconds before tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber manage to close their mouths. So which one of you made that wish?" He asked. Somehow, I knew exactly what he was talking about. 

"I did," I said, stepping forward  without hesitation, "can you help us?"

The man's arrogant eyes seemed to soften the slightest bit.

"Yeah... but it'll come at a price. Wishes don't come cheap, kid," he said a little sadly.

"What do you need?" Still no hesitation. He met my gaze solemnly and steadily, brow furrowed as if deep in thought. After a moment, a strange look came over his face. 

"... The possibilities in your future make your years too powerful. You have very little good memories and no possessions but the clothes on your back. And even if your friend were to make the wish..." 

He shook his head.

"It's the same with him. You have literally nothing to give me to save your friends... Except for one thing."

"What is it?" I demanded urgently, "anything for their freedom!" 

"To save your friends... you have to give them up. I'm sorry, kid. Truly."

"O-Ollie..." Solomon said shakily, pointing behind the man. The cops were approaching again, cautiously this time. 

The officer who first threatened us stopped at the loud buzz of his radio. He answered it without taking his eyes off of us. 

"O'Conner. You found the van?" 

My blood turned to ice. Now we really couldn't run. Not without her. I turned to the man as Solomon began to whimper and cry. I knew we wouldn't be able to free Sarah on our own. This was the only way. The officers began arguing amongst themselves about whether or not they should wait for back up as I spoke.

"...They won't remember me?" I asked slowly, not questioning the fact that I somehow knew exactly what recieving his help would entail and chalking it up to my powers. 

He shook his head. 

"No. They won't. They'll wake up tomorrow morning in that van, with every memory in tact minus you. They'll be found by nice people. Adopted. Happy. But you... do you want to do this? They are literally the only things in the world you have to give." 

It was my turn to nod. I could hear sirens in the distance; there was their backup.

"Yes," I said immediately. My resolve was steel. He looked at me a second longer before reaching out to place two fingers on my forehead.

"I'm sorry, kid," he murmured regretfully as his hand began to glow, "I need to eat." 

I didn't ask what he meant. All that mattered was that the closest thing I'd ever had to family would be safe. 

\------------------------------

Virgil's POV, Present day: 

I was overcome with deja vu as the kid whirled around to face me; I could tell from the way his eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open that he recognized me as well. 

"YOU!!" He shouted. I groaned, scrubbing a hand down my face. 

"Not this again..." 

_____________________

Virgil's POV,  one year prior:

The second I touched the kid's forehead, I could sense that something was off. 

It was unlike any other granting I'd ever experienced; instead of the energy flowing just from him to me, it circulated, spiraling between us and multiplying itself with every pass. Almost like... he was feeding it. Like the energy came from his own spirit as much as the wish. It was an extremely weird but addicting feeling. The task at hand was completed swiftly and with ease, leaving me with one of the largest energy surpluses I'd ever seen. My wounds were healed, my skin filled out, and my energy restored almost immediately with the surge of pure power. 

I was thankful, but baffled and a little scared. Whatever this kid's deal was, one thing was for certain:

He wasn't human. 

In the span of thirty seconds, the street was empty of life save for me and the kid. His friends had been teleported to safety even as I fed from their memories, and the cops were off duty and fast asleep in their beds. Everything was as it should be...

Except for the kid. Oliver. 

I felt my chest tighten painfully  with regret as I removed my hand and looked down at his shivering form. His head hung low and his shoulders drooped; it was obvious that he was crying. I bitterly cursed myself for thinking with my stomach, putting my own needs first. Damnit, couldn't I have waited?! It didn't matter one bit that I hadn't eaten in fifty years. From what I'd seen in my brief stroll through his psyche, my suffering paled in comparison to the river of shit he'd been put through in just nine short years. 

I fucking hated myself. 

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, when the kid suddenly stiffened and grew eerily silent, still as a statue. His head slowly lifted to look up at me. I flinched back at what I saw. 

Purple eyes. But not just any purple. It was that familiar brand of neon that I knew so well, the color that represented my power; those were my goddamn eyes.

His hands shot towards my face before I could react, latching on to either side of my head with an iron grip that should have been impossible for a child his size. I panicked and tried to dissolve, only to find that I couldn't. 

"What the- God damnit what the hell! Let go!!" I shouted as I struggled. The fight was forced out of me when a sharp surge of potent magic lanced through me, igniting every nerve ending and bringing me to my knees. My brain nearly flatlined from the pain. I could feel myself changing, could feel my spirit being ripped apart and sewn roughly back together. 

What was I becoming? 

In the next second after I asked that question of myself, all thought was wiped from my head to be replaced by blackness.


	44. 44

Jericho's POV: 

"Because the runes are within you," Fell said softly, confirming what I already knew and dreaded. I didn't know what to say. Denying it was useless; I knew that he could read the despair in my eyes when I heard the truth. So I said nothing, waiting for his next move. 

I didn't have to wait long. 

He flung his arms wide out to either side with his hands open and fingers clawed as if he were reaching for something. Small tendrils of shadow coalesced in the empty air just out of his arm's   reach, forming two solid objects that flew into his grasp like magnets the second they were complete. 

 

The twin blades he held were almost as horrifying as Fell himself, throbbing with the same tainted black energy that I'd come to associate with him. The shape of the weapons was undoubtedly unique; the blades extended from the hilt at a right angle before sweeping outward in both directions like a double sided scythe. I watched as what little light the gold of Fell's shadows provided danced along the wickedly sharp edges, reminding me of the permanent malicious gleam in Fell's cold eyes.

I instinctively reached over my shoulder for my faithful caduceus, only to be brutally reminded of both its absence and my powerless state. I reached for my magic and was met with the same result, probably because of the surpression jinxes Azazel talked about. Fell smirked as my fists clenched angrily at my sides, so tight that they started to shake. It was so God damn unfair! 

My breathing quickened as he began to approach. I retreated at that same measured pace, matching him step for step, never once averting my eyes from his hungry gaze. 

"You're finally getting it, aren't you?" Fell chuckled, "You have no power here, little thing. You are mi-" 

Crack.

His words were cut short by a deafening staccato pop that set my ears to ringing, like a fire cracker had gone of right by my ear. My body began to tingle. I looked down at my hands as they began to shimmer and glow with the power of my aura.

My magic! It was back! 

I grinned in relief and summoned my Caduceus. Not the real one of course, but the figment I created was just as powerful. Fell snarled  and raised his weapons, hiding his uneasiness behind a veil of rage. Was it just me, or was his posture a little defensive?

"That thrice damned fool!" He growled, "Must I do everything myself?!" 

I realized with relief that Azazel's Jinxes must have broken. Was he dead? Had my friends found my unconcious body? 

I didn't have the chance to wonder further. Fell leapt at me with a roar, his weapons raised high above his head. I blocked one successfully, but he swung wide with the other and looped under my staff, landing a hit on my thigh. I screamed through gritted teeth as a deep, but non fatal gash was torn through the meat of my leg, just missing the artery. I temporarily augmented my strength with a brief burst of magic and shoved him, forcing him to leap backwards in order to keep his balance. 

His grin was savage as he lifted the offending blade to his lips, tracing the edge with his tongue. I looked on with horror and disgust as he groaned with pleasure, eyes  closed in rapture.

"Mmm..." he gave one last moan before meeting my eyes again with a slow smile. I stayed silent, letting my angry aura do the talking for me. He chuckled.

"Your powers may have returned, but you're still in my house, little girl. You would do well to remember-"

He grunted as he was forced to block the blast of silver blue light that would have been a bullseye to his smug face. He lowered his blades slowly, glaring over them as I returned my outstreched hand to my caduceus and dropped into a battle stance and flared my aura threateningly.

"The broken record act is getting boring, Fell. Time for a topic change," I growled. His smirk  didn't return this time as he followed suite and readied his weapons. 

"I couldn't agree more... Jericho."


	45. 45

Felix's POV:

"What the fuck do you mean They're gone?!" I exclaimed as I roughly shoved my guns back into they're holsters, "They couldn't have just disappeared!"

Anti cocked an eyebrow.

"Really. After everything you've seen you can't believe that?" He asked. I exhaled heavily, running a hand through my hair.

"För fan i helvete..." I muttered. Virgo was literally our only lead! Why the hell hadn't we asked her the location before we started?"

"Skit också!"

"Okay, that's gonna get old real quick," Anti commented flatly. I shot him a death glare.

"I'm Swedish, you green fuck," I snapped, "And considering the shit creek we're paddling, I think I'm entitled to curse however the fuck I want!"  

"Okay, okay. Jesus," Anti muttered.

"Enough! We have to focus on the job in our hands!" Marzia yelled.

"The job at hand, Marzia," I corrected, fighting the urge to grin despite the circumstances. The warrior narrowed her eyes. 

"I don't care-"

"Wait."

We both turned to see Anti with his head upturned, eyes moving from side to side as if searching the sky for something.

"Do you two feel that?" He asked.

"Neither of us have that third eye shit, so... no," I answered flatly, "what is it now?" 

He was silent for a second before he turned back to us with narrowed eyes.

"Something's fucky."

"Ha! It's fishy!" Exclaimed Marzia triumphantly. Anti shook his head slowly.

"No. This is worse." 

Virgil's POV:

Thank whatever powers that be for my little sister.

After we teleported for a second time, we ended up on the street an entire half block away from the Munich Rathaus that housed the entrance to the temporary pocket dimension that this year's Gathering would take place in. Not two seconds later, my favorite sister's cloud rocketed around the corner, pausing in front of us to indicate that we should follow before flying off again at top speed. The others were confused, but trusted my judgement and followed suit when I began tailing her. She led us to a decrepit old building about a minute away that had a single use shadow portal right inside the door. I was impressed; her energy signature was all over the portal, so I knew she'd made it herself, probably with a couple pre-charged charms. 

After that, we were home free at three miles away from the immediate danger, more than enough distance to escape any of the House member's third eye radars.

"Oh my fucking God am I glad to see you," I laughed, wrapping my sister in a tight hug the second she reformed. 

"Me too, Gillie. I'm glad you're safe, brother," Virgo said happily.

"Brother? You have a sister??" Sean asked incredulously. I turned back to them, keeping my arm around Virgo's shoulder. 

"Three sisters actually, with varying levels of bitchiness. This is Virgo; she's on the good side of the spectrum."

I decided against explaining my royal status for the moment. That could wait 'til we had a place to crash. As if reading my mind, Virgo answered my unasked question:

"Here, there's an old hotel on the east edge of town where we could stay for the night. I don't think they'll look for us there," she said, already heading in that direction. 

But that's when it got weird. 

Not a minute of silent walking later, a high pitched voice cut through the empty streets:

"Well isn't this just bloody brilliant?" The voice grumbled irritably. Curious, I leapt up on top of a car and peered ahead to see a little kid picking himself up off the ground and muttering as he dusted himself off.

"Sorry, my British is a little rusty," I snarked. The kid stiffened and slowly turned to meet my gaze. My jaw nearly fell off my head when I saw his face.

Oh shit.

"YOU!" he shouted, "what are you doing here?!"

"Not this again..." I groaned, scrubbing a hand down my face. Virgo gasped when she caught up and saw the kid. 

"Oh my goodness! I forgot you, I'm so sor- wait," she looked between the two of us as we glared daggers at one another, "you know each other?"

"Unfortunately. And 'British' isn't a language, you blithering dimwit!" The kid yelled. I rolled my eyes.

"Looks like your sarcasm is rusty. No need to shout."

"There are plenty of bloody reasons to shout!!" 

"Wait, should we know who this is?" Asked Mark. 

"No, just- ugh. It's a long story," I finished wearily before turning back to the steaming tyke.

"You first, junior; What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Like it's any of your business, you colorblind fashionista," he scoffed. Okay, that did it. Nobody insulted my fashion sense. I jumped off the car and stalked towards him.

"Alright, listen up you snotty little-" 

"Ooookay, I think we've had enough fighting for today," Virgo laughed nervously as she jumped between the two of us, "let's get to the motel before we run into more trouble. Are you coming with us, sweetie?" Virgo asked the boy. He considered it before sighing wearily.

"I suppose it's my best option at the moment." 

I growled before stomping off in the direction we'd been traveling, glowering at him as I passed. 

Ugh. Why me?

_______________

Tomatin, Scotland, One year ago  
Virgil's POV:

"What the- God damnit what the hell! Let go!!" I shouted as I struggled against the kid's unnaturally strong grip. The fight was forced out of me when a sharp surge of potent magic lanced through me, igniting every nerve ending and bringing me to my knees. My brain nearly flatlined from the pain. I could feel myself changing, could feel my spirit being ripped apart and sewn roughly back together. 

What was I becoming? 

In the next second after I asked that question of myself, all thought was wiped from my head to be replaced by blackness.

...

When I came to, I was lying sprawled on the street I'd passed out on. The kid was nowhere to be found. Weak rays of sunlight signalled the dawn, letting me know I'd been out at least six or seven hours. 

I groaned as I forced my stiff body to roll over and push itself up off the ground, wincing as my bones and muscles creaked and protested. What the actual fuck had happened back there?! His reaction to the granting was unprecedented; I'd never felt magic that powerful before. Ever. 

What's more, I felt different. I couldn't explain it if I tried, but I somehow felt reborn. Remade. My own power was alien to me. It was disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant. 

With nothing else to do, I took a deep breath of the crisp, early morning air and started walking. Where to? Fuck if I knew. But I kept walking.

I don't think I ever found a destination.


	46. 46

Dark's POV:

My head snapped up at the wave of magic on the very edge of my range, that familiar brand of power. My entire body sagged with relief, nearly going limp.

I could feel her. I was whole again. 

As far as I could tell from our bond, they were around five miles away, heading due east at a moderate pace that suggested they weren't in danger. I thought briefly about our situation before deciding to stay put for the moment; as long as she was safe with Mark, Sean, and Chica, I would be able to do far more good from inside the enemy's turf. 

I'll see you soon, love.

Jericho's POV:

"The broken record act is getting boring, Fell. Time for a topic change," I growled. His smirk  didn't return this time as he followed suite and readied his weapons. 

"I couldn't agree more... Jericho." 

We began to circle each other slowly, both of our eyes trained intently on the enemy. Neither of us spoke; the time for bickering and taunts was over. It was time to fight.

I made the first move, lunging forward with a harsh battle cry. I willed my Caduceus to split into two smaller parts at the last second, catching Fell off guard enough for me to tear a deep gash in his thigh, giving him a wound to match mine. He groaned but didn't falter, matching me blow for blow after his mistake.

"You did that on purpose, little girl," Fell chuckled between blows. 

"Yeah?" I snapped, "what are you gonna do about it?" 

Fell used the crook of his blades to lock our weapons together before leaning in close to me, his golden eyes smoldering into mine.

"Oh, there are so many things I'd like to do with you..." he purred. I growled and jerked at my blades, drawing a chuckle from him. 

"When will you realize that I'm not your enemy, Jericho?" He asked softly. With a final tug I wrenched myself out of the deadlock and leapt backwards.

"Sorry, I didn't get that. I don't speak bullshit," I snapped. Ditching my Caduceus, I summoned my daggers instead, charging them up quickly with magic so I could shoot long range as well. 

I sprinted around him in a wide circle, sending rapid fire bolts of blue light shooting towards him as I went. To my infinite satisfaction, he actually seemed to be breaking a little sweat. 

I celebrated too soon. 

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks and yanking me backwards. A cold blade pressed against my throat as a slow chuckle sounded from right beside my ear. I watched in amazement as the Fell before me smirked, giving me a cheeky wave before fading away. 

"Like I said, little thing..." Fell breathed in my ear before nipping it lightly.

"Child's play."

Dark's POV:

I paced restlessly back and forth across the room as I focused on Jericho's spirit energy, grateful for having regained the ability to sense her. There was only one problem; she couldn't sense me. She was unresponsive to my efforts to reach her. Something or someone was targeting me, blocking me out specifically with a one way mental blockade that I knew I couldn't break through on my own. The magic was powerful, more so than my own. Even worse was the fact that I couldn't hope to escape this place with so many powerful beings standing in the way. I slammed my fist into the wall, cracking it.

Damn it all! 

There was a sudden wave of fear and agitation from her end that was so poignant that I could feel it as if it were my own. Along with the surge came a hint of a familiar dark energy.

"Fell," I whispered in dismay. 

Anti's POV:

"No," I shook my head slowly, focusing on the surges of stark terror ten miles to the east, "this is worse. Much worse. Jericho is in trouble." 

"What?! Seriously? Where?!" Felix shouted as he and Marzia drew their weapons. I covered my now throbbing ear.

"Ow. To the east, a little over ten miles. Her energy is so powerful that I can sense her from literally four times the normal range. What the fuck is going down over there?" I muttered.

"What in heaven's name are they doing over there? Let's go!!" Said Marzia, already sprinting in that direction. 

"That's useless. Unless you have a speed charm, there's no way we're  gonna reach her in time," I called after her. She snarled some Italian curse over her shoulder and kept and kept running. Felix sighed and turned to me. 

"Is there anything we can do from here?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah. But you'll owe me," I said before sitting down and clearing my mind.

"You're going down, Fell 'iikh."

Jericho's POV:

"Like I said, little thing; child's play. "

"I only see one child here," I snarled harshly, not daring to move against the blade digging into my neck. 

"Watch it," Fell said lowly, tightening his hold around me in warning, "I warned you, my patience is limited. Now drop the daggers."

I was about to retort when I heard the very last thing I would have expected in a situation like this:

'Woooow. You just can't stay out of trouble for two seconds, can you?'

'A-ANTI?!'

'Sup?

'What are you doing here?'

Fucking Fell over. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, doll.

"Jericho. NOW," my captor commanded, his aura flaring in impatience. 

'God, what a dick,' Anti scoffed, 'you ready?'

I dropped the daggers to show Fell I was still paying attention. I could feel him smile against my neck, making me shudder in revulsion.

"Good girl," he crooned.

'Ready For what?' I asked nervously. I could almost see Anti's grin.

'For this.'

There was a sudden surge of magic flowing through me, unfamiliar and invasive. I gasped and writhed as it forced it's way into my mind, unbearably hot and nearly painful. Every inch of my skin tingled and burned, forcing my eyes to close and making me cry out.

Fell cursed loudly and shoved me away from him, sending me flying a good distance away. 

'Oops.'

Some inexplicable force caught me before I hit the ground and pushed me into a standing position.

'Sorry. Uh, not that I care, but you good?'

I nodded and tentatively opened my eyes, widening them in shock at the sight before me. 

The darkness around me was tinged with a thick blue-green inferno that raged wildly around me in a maelstrom of pure power. I gasped when it dawned on me that...

"You changed my aura?!" I exclaimed aloud. I looked up as Fell growled, reminding me of his presence. 

"That's Anti, isn't it? The damned fool," he hissed. 

"The fool that's gonna enjoy watching your little project backfire and rip you a new one," Anti responded smugly, making his voice audible, "you really should have made a better barrier; remember, Dark's not the ONLY one you have to worry about."

Fell let loose an angry snarl and threw his weapons to the side, summoning a frightening pair of twin swords in their stead.

 

"I'm going to destroy you, snake! I want your pride decimated, your hubris stripped bare!" He shouted, "you. Are. DEAD!"

with that, he charged, his swords raised above his head...

Only to be stopped by a translucent wall of silver and black smoke.

"Silence is golden too, Fell 'iikh. You'll choke on those words soon enough."

I nearly fell to my knees in happiness and relief. 

Dark had found me.

Atticus' POV:

Why me?

I'd long since accepted the fact that my friends were lost to me, and understood that were I to seek them out, the sacrifice would lose it's poignancy. I was at peace simply knowing that they were safe and loved. 

But that didn't mean I had to like him. 

Even as the logical part of my brain told me that it was pointless to blame him for doing what he was built to do, I couldn't help but hate him. Call it childish, call it weak, but I needed someone to blame besides myself. Now there was only one more question: why did he hate me? What had I done to wrong him? Did it have something to do with my blackout after the incident a year ago?

"Holy shit!" 

I was torn from my dark thoughts when Mark yelped and hurriedly put Jericho down and stumbled away to fall to his knees. He held his arms before him, palms up as he hissed and shuddered in pain.

"Oh my goodness!" Cried Virgo, running to his aid. I ran and looked over Mark's shoulder to see what the problem was and balked at the sight, feeling the blood drain from my face immediately.

His arms were covered in severe third degree burns from his hands to his biceps to his chest. The skin was gruesomely charred and filleted, blood dripping from the torn skin and onto the ground. Wisps of steam rolled off of the affected areas, carrying with them the stomach churning scent of cooked meat. I cringed and stepped back as Sean, Virgo, and Chica rushed to help their wounded friend as he screamed in agony. 

"What the actual fuck just happened?!" Virgil exclaimed as he followed suite and backed away, giving the other's the space they needed. I shook my head, feeling nauseous. 

"I don't know what it could have..." I began shakily. Unable to bear the sight any longer, I turned away only to see sometbing even more shocking. Virgil gave me a questioning look.

"What?"

"I think I might have an idea of what it was..." I whispered, pointing a shaking finger behind him. He whirled around, the same expression of confusion and fear appearing on his face. 

Mark's wordless cries of pain faded into the background as Virgil and I gawked at the Phenomenon before us. 

Jericho was unconcious and levitating in the air, her arms, legs, and head hanging limply beneath her. 

 

Unfortunately, that wasn't the most surprising part. Her once soft blue and silver aura raged around her in a ferocious inferno, countless strands of super heated energy lashing out like whips of deadly fire. Hints of black, green, and a bright silver burned in equal part with her own essence, warping it into something... more.  
I had never seen so many colors in one aura before, never seen one so bright. I was eternally grateful for my newfound ability to 'turn down' my sight, as Antioch called it; without it, I would most likely be blind.

Virgil and I backed away as the explosion of colors grew, nearly singeing us with the resulting heat. 

"Oh fuck!" Yelled Sean, just then realizing what was happening, "Virgil, grab his legs, we have to go!" 

With one last worried glance at Jericho, we ran, knowing we could do nothing for her.

Jericho's POV:

"Silence is golden too, Fell 'iikh. You'll choke on those words soon enough."

I nearly fell to my knees in happiness and relief; Dark had found me. It would all be okay. 

I felt his warm, comforting essence joining with mine and Anti's, overlaying the burning sensation like a salve. 

"You were too rough, Anti. She's a druid, not a Demon," Dark said in disapproval. I felt Anti shrug.

"Hey, if it works it works. I broke the barrier, didn't I?"

"Indeed. Thank you."

"Please, I didn't do this for you. I owed you two for Anjali."

Their amicable bickering was put to sudden halt when Fell appeared in front of me, catching my blades in a deadlock once again.

"Uh, guys?" I snapped as I strained against the force, "little help here?"

"Right."

The three of us flared our powers together as one titanic mass of energy. Fell's eyes widened with shock before he leapt backwards. It was nice to see him retreating for once.

"Impossible! This should be killing you!" He exclaimed, "A Druid can't take that much power!"

"That's my girl," Dark chuckled as Anti mentally smirked. I grinned right along with them.

"What was that you said earlier, Fell?" I asked, pretending to think.

"Oh, that's right... Child's play."


	47. 47

Fell's POV:

No. 

Impossible!

  She was finally mine, finally in my arms where she and the treasures she held belonged. Oh, she fought me, of course; I wouldn't expect anything less from my fiery little thing. I loved it though, I always do. It was all fun and games between predator and prey...

Until he showed his irksome face.

Antioch was a variable I hadn't counted on, a loose cannon that I never would have thought capable of helping his past enemies. I cursed my own troublesome hubris bitterly as my plans fell apart, my one chance at my true power ripped from my clutches in an instant. The barrier had been tailored specifically to Dark, designed to show him his own powerlessness in changing  Jericho's fate. I wanted him to know her suffering, wanted him to burn and have no way of intervening. 

But Antioch... The irony of his fame as The Snake didn't escape me. My betrayal had come full circle with fangs bared, fueled by a wrathful venom of my own creation. The serpent appeared when I least expected it, and now I was paying the price threefold.

"This should be killing you!" I exclaimed as I backed away, "No Druid can take that much power in one vessel!" 

Her frightening appearance would surely bring any lesser being to their knees; her eyes shone brightly with a pure and  righteous white light that outshone both Anjali and the very sun itself. Her aura was a wild maelstrom of uninhibited power, a storm of black, silver, green and blue that burned both hot and cold, bright and dark. And her Caduceus...

 

Her previously bostaff-esque weapon was now a bladed caduceus that was terrifying to behold, gleaming with the same awesome power that radiated from every inch of her being.

"What was that you said earlier, Fell?" She asked, her tone confident and smug, "Oh, that's  right... Child's play. "

Her voice was truly horrifying, even to my seasoned ears, an abominable mixture of three separate tones: 

The deep, growling burr of the Blood King that was hated and feared by so many. 

The venomous, higher pitched tenor of the traitorous thorn in my side.

And at the forefront was her, confident and commanding and powerful; not a princess, but a Queen. Her words carried a deadly promise, an audible warrant for my death. I was filled with an unfamiliar emotion that shocked me. For the first time in over two hundred thousand years...

I was afraid.

Jericho's POV:

I grinned and flung my hand towards him in a blur, summoning a mass of deadly light that shot straight for his snarling  face. Fell's eyes widened as he realized that he couldn't hope to block the attack and escape with his life. He leapt to the side at the last second, already dissolving into shadows in a desperate attempt to regroup. He never got the chance.

I flung myself at him Before the light dissapated, flying straight through the blast with my Caduceus raised high above my head. I swung it down full force with a snarl, smiling smugly at him when he grunted with the strain of his blades meeting mine.

My smile darkened into a wicked grin as the borrowed power surged inside me, mixing with my own. I removed one hand from the Caduceus, knowing I didn't need both to hold him. I summoned a ball of compacted light in my free hand and thrust it towards him. He abandoned his shaky hold and dodged to the side just in time, but I was ready.

I raised my weapon and spun towards him, once again bringing it down with all my power in another brutal downward srike. I increased the pressure as Fell grimaced, a bead of sweat rolling down his pale face.

I raised my leg and kicked him in the gut, sending him flying back. I burst into a cloud of shadows and shot behind him, reforming as he struggled for breath through his broken ribs. Once again gripping my weapon with a single hand, I spun it gracefully towards his face, relishing the way he flinched. 

I leapt back to examine my handiwork as Fell slowly opened his eyes and lifted his fingers to the shallow cut that marred his cheek. He clenched his fist around the blood that dripped into his hand, pushing himself to his feet to glare at me through the hair that had fallen into his face. I smirked. 

"Where's that cheeky grin now, Fell?" I teased. 

I cocked an amused eyebrow at him in silent question as he was rendered speechless for the first time, unable to  retort through his labored breathing. His face twisted into a ferocious snarl as he charged with an angry roar that would have been frightening three minutes before. This time, I knocked his blades aside with a single swipe and launched myself into the air, planting my foot against his throat. He gagged and stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor. He growled and charged again, locking his blades with mine. 

"STOP TOYING WITH ME!!" he screamed, aura flaring powerfully with the intensity of his rage.

"No."

My expression turned cold as I knocked his swords out of his hands before concentrating my energy into my forehead and headbutting him. He stumbled back with a cry of pain as his skull audibly cracked. I slashed his ankles, severing the tendons there and bringing him to his knees. Weaponless. Hopeless.

At my mercy.

I returned his glare stonily before slowly sauntering around him in a casual circle, leisurely twirling my new weapon with a single hand. Dark, Anti and I spoke as one.

"Are you ready to give up... "little thing?" We asked in our threefold voice. Fell's eyes darkened.

"You will regret this, Jericho. Soon," he hissed lowly as he slowly began to dissolve, too weak to hold a solid form with the extent of his wounds.

We cocked our head as we stopped in front of him, fixing him with a look that one usually reserved for naughty children. It was unfortunate that we couldn't destroy the creator in his own dreamscape...

But that didn't mean we couldn't have a little fun.

We swung once more with a feral grin. Our victim threw his head back and howled as the gash spurted blood that immediately turned black and evaporated, disappearing into thin air. We watched in satisfaction as he  writhed and choked on his own blood for awhile.

But that got boring. 

We thrust the Caduceus forward one last time...

Straight through his throat.

 

 

 

 

Yo shout out to Anti-Slo for the idea on the appearance of jericho

And to TsundereDarkiplier, who did most of the work on this chapter 


	48. 47

Fell's POV:

No. 

Impossible!

  She was finally mine, finally in my arms where she and the treasures she held belonged. Oh, she fought me, of course; I wouldn't expect anything less from my fiery little thing. I loved it though, I always do. It was all fun and games between predator and prey...

Until he showed his irksome face.

Antioch was a variable I hadn't counted on, a loose cannon that I never would have thought capable of helping his past enemies. I cursed my own troublesome hubris bitterly as my plans fell apart, my one chance at my true power ripped from my clutches in an instant. The barrier had been tailored specifically to Dark, designed to show him his own powerlessness in changing  Jericho's fate. I wanted him to know her suffering, wanted him to burn and have no way of intervening. 

But Antioch... The irony of his fame as The Snake didn't escape me. My betrayal had come full circle with fangs bared, fueled by a wrathful venom of my own creation. The serpent appeared when I least expected it, and now I was paying the price threefold.

"This should be killing you!" I exclaimed as I backed away, "No Druid can take that much power in one vessel!" 

Her frightening appearance would surely bring any lesser being to their knees; her eyes shone brightly with a pure and  righteous white light that outshone both Anjali and the very sun itself. Her aura was a wild maelstrom of uninhibited power, a storm of black, silver, green and blue that burned both hot and cold, bright and dark. And her Caduceus...

 

Her previously bostaff-esque weapon was now a bladed caduceus that was terrifying to behold, gleaming with the same awesome power that radiated from every inch of her being.

"What was that you said earlier, Fell?" She asked, her tone confident and smug, "Oh, that's  right... Child's play. "

Her voice was truly horrifying, even to my seasoned ears, an abominable mixture of three separate tones: 

The deep, growling burr of the Blood King that was hated and feared by so many. 

The venomous, higher pitched tenor of the traitorous thorn in my side.

And at the forefront was her, confident and commanding and powerful; not a princess, but a Queen. Her words carried a deadly promise, an audible warrant for my death. I was filled with an unfamiliar emotion that shocked me. For the first time in over two hundred thousand years...

I was afraid.

Jericho's POV:

I grinned and flung my hand towards him in a blur, summoning a mass of deadly light that shot straight for his snarling  face. Fell's eyes widened as he realized that he couldn't hope to block the attack and escape with his life. He leapt to the side at the last second, already dissolving into shadows in a desperate attempt to regroup. He never got the chance.

I flung myself at him Before the light dissapated, flying straight through the blast with my Caduceus raised high above my head. I swung it down full force with a snarl, smiling smugly at him when he grunted with the strain of his blades meeting mine.

My smile darkened into a wicked grin as the borrowed power surged inside me, mixing with my own. I removed one hand from the Caduceus, knowing I didn't need both to hold him. I summoned a ball of compacted light in my free hand and thrust it towards him. He abandoned his shaky hold and dodged to the side just in time, but I was ready.

I raised my weapon and spun towards him, once again bringing it down with all my power in another brutal downward srike. I increased the pressure as Fell grimaced, a bead of sweat rolling down his pale face.

I raised my leg and kicked him in the gut, sending him flying back. I burst into a cloud of shadows and shot behind him, reforming as he struggled for breath through his broken ribs. Once again gripping my weapon with a single hand, I spun it gracefully towards his face, relishing the way he flinched. 

I leapt back to examine my handiwork as Fell slowly opened his eyes and lifted his fingers to the shallow cut that marred his cheek. He clenched his fist around the blood that dripped into his hand, pushing himself to his feet to glare at me through the hair that had fallen into his face. I smirked. 

"Where's that cheeky grin now, Fell?" I teased. 

I cocked an amused eyebrow at him in silent question as he was rendered speechless for the first time, unable to  retort through his labored breathing. His face twisted into a ferocious snarl as he charged with an angry roar that would have been frightening three minutes before. This time, I knocked his blades aside with a single swipe and launched myself into the air, planting my foot against his throat. He gagged and stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor. He growled and charged again, locking his blades with mine. 

"STOP TOYING WITH ME!!" he screamed, aura flaring powerfully with the intensity of his rage.

"No."

My expression turned cold as I knocked his swords out of his hands before concentrating my energy into my forehead and headbutting him. He stumbled back with a cry of pain as his skull audibly cracked. I slashed his ankles, severing the tendons there and bringing him to his knees. Weaponless. Hopeless.

At my mercy.

I returned his glare stonily before slowly sauntering around him in a casual circle, leisurely twirling my new weapon with a single hand. Dark, Anti and I spoke as one.

"Are you ready to give up... "little thing?" We asked in our threefold voice. Fell's eyes darkened.

"You will regret this, Jericho. Soon," he hissed lowly as he slowly began to dissolve, too weak to hold a solid form with the extent of his wounds.

We cocked our head as we stopped in front of him, fixing him with a look that one usually reserved for naughty children. It was unfortunate that we couldn't destroy the creator in his own dreamscape...

But that didn't mean we couldn't have a little fun.

We swung once more with a feral grin. Our victim threw his head back and howled as the gash spurted blood that immediately turned black and evaporated, disappearing into thin air. We watched in satisfaction as he  writhed and choked on his own blood for awhile.

But that got boring. 

We thrust the Caduceus forward one last time...

Straight through his throat.

 

 

 

 

Yo shout out to Anti-Slo for the idea on the appearance of jericho

And to TsundereDarkiplier, who did most of the work on this chapter 


	49. 49

Jericho's POV:

As soon as my Caduceus pierced through his neck, both he and the guilded smoke that surrounded us vanished as the power I borrowed from Anti and Dark dissapated, leaving me alone in nothingness. For a moment, I was afraid I was trapped there, that Fell had somehow managed to cage me in. 

That fear was put to rest to be replaced by a worse one as whatever I was standing on was yanked out from under me, sending me hurtling downward through the darkness, screaming my lungs out. 

My back impacted with a hard surface, making my eyes widen and mouth gape as the breath was knocked out of me. There was a brief moment where I thought I would be crushed by the enourmous pressure that surrounded me in that split second of panic.

Then the weight was gone as soon as it came, leaving me feeling light as air with the contrast of its absence. I sat bolt upright with a deep gasp, clutching my chest and panting heavily as my heart pattered sporadically in my chest. I felt around my body frantically, checking my legs, ribs, and neck before sighing in relief; none of the wounds I'd sustained in the dreamscape had followed me into the real world. 

Assured of my immediate safety, I took the time to take inventory of my surroundings. I was in the middle of a silent ghost of a city; from the void state of the streets, I assumed I was still in Munich. 

Then I heard the screams. 

Mark's screams. 

I grabbed my new weapon and shot to my feet, sprinting in the direction of the noise.

Sean's POV:

We legged it around an alleyway half a block away, far enough that we were prtected from the super nova that was Jericho's aura, but close enough to keep an eye on her. 

Mark was in bad shape. His burns were the worst I'd ever seen; rivulets of blood trickled from his arms and chest in the places that weren't already cauterized, dripping into puddles on the ground. The thinner skin of his hands and wrists were eaten through nearly to the bone, his fingers twitching involuntarily as the nerves were agitated. His screams faded into delirious moans as he drifted into shock, eyes fluttering as his body seized with the effort of keeping him alive. 

"God fucking Dammit!!" I shouted as we held him down as best we could without doing more harm, "Virgil, what's the cost?!" 

"Dude, I can only grant so many wishes at a time... Those wounds are pretty intense, and I'm not too keen on kicking the bucket a second time," he said, putting up his hands. I snarled, knowing he was right. 

"Think of something quick!" Chica snapped, "I don't have unlimited energy to feed him!"

"Um... I-I could do it," Virgo said softly, worrying at her purple curls as she tentatively approached Mark. 

"What? No. Fuck no," Virgil said sharply, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder, "You're too young. It would knock you out for a month!!" 

"There's no need," came a voice from the alleyway entrance. We all turned to see-

Oh thank GOD.

Jericho was awake and well and walking quickly towards us with an air of calm determination. We all stepped aside as she drew her wand and kneeled beside Mark's shivering body, channeling her power through the instrument and directing it at his wounds. We watched with relief as the charred skin began to heal itself. Within the span of thirty seconds, the bloody residue coating his arms and chest were all that remained of his ordeal. 

I let out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding when Mark finally relaxed, his face clearing and eyes fluttering shut as he drifted into a deep sleep. Chica collapsed as well, panting and whining with exhaustion. I kneeled to run my fingers through her fur before turning my face to Jericho. I opened my mouth to thank her when I was interupted. 

"Don't. This was my fault," she said softly, "Don't thank me for that."

I shook my head.

"That's not true, Jericho. Whatever happened, I know you would never willingly hurt Mark."

"Listen, as nice as all this is, we really should get going," Virgil cut in, "What was that about a hotel, Virgo?"


	50. 50

Dark's POV:

When next I opened my eyes, I was laying in the same plush bed, staring up at the same ornate ceiling. Only this time, I awoke with a smile. 

I was so proud of my Druid, so awed by how much stronger she had grown in a mere six weeks. The amount of power she could take was extraordinary, simply unheard of for a Druid. Most Paranormals had to train for years for that kind of spiritual fortitude. Centuries, even! And when she amassed her own innate power, when my rose blossomed to her full potential...

She would be extraordinary. 

"Ahem."

My smile vanished with the sound of a conspicuously cleared throat. I turned my head slowly towards the obnoxious visitor, trying to tamp down on my annoyance at being disturbed in such a rude way. 

 

Leaning on the wall beside the door stood yet another vaguely familiar looking young woman. This girl donned a darker purple than Valentine, with more revealing clothes that clung lovingly to the skin that wasn't showing, leaving nothing to the imagination. She haughtily returned my glower as I stood slowly, holding her gaze steadily.

I didn't like her.

"And who might you be, Nymph?" I asked coolly. She cocked a single perfect eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Dark," she smirked, callously addressing me by my informal title, "even though we both know what I am."

"You had me fooled; you certainly dress like one," I said, jerking a thumb towards a figure on the far edge of the mural. The creature was beautiful, perfect even. But, like most nymphs before their race died away, she was scantily clad and nearly naked. Nymphs were known to be beautiful, but also vain and lascivous, completely lacking in moral boundaries in their pursuit of riches and pleasure; in the modern era, one might go so far as to call them whores.

"I'm not surprised that you would consider that little jab a compliment, seeing as the morality and sense of self worth of any Nymph would by far exceed your own," I said, keeping my voice casual. When there was no response from her but to widen her smirk, I continued, summoning my axe and approaching her slowly. My steps were measured and deliberate, my voice deep and calm as I made my contempt known. 

 

"I've seen you before, Violet Sanders. I know of your sins, your lust for power and need to control. I've seen your sword-sharp tongue and wicked mind, seen the hideous, hateful beast that sleeps beneath the lovely lie of your skin. I've seen your many transgressions against your own flesh and blood through the eyes of the brother you betrayed."

Her smug expression gradually fell with each condemning word, turning stony and cold as I drew closer. I reached her and raised the axe, placing the edge against the wall two feet from her neck and angling it so the butt of the staff touched the wall, caging her in. 

"Demons are considered by many to be the cruelest and most bloodthirsty creatures in all of creation for the fact that we feed almost explicitly on shock and fear unless it's from our bound. We are known for being sadistic and," I paused to smirk at the irony of my next words, "Dark, going to extraordinary lengths to draw every last morsel of terror from our victims. 

"But Demons, at least, don't hide their bloody nature behind a pleasant facade. Demons are honest, straightforward with their intentions. We kill, we eat. But you, my dear... you are far, far worse than any Demon, Angel, Dark Elf, or Vampire that I've ever layed eyes on."

"And how's that?" She asked, lifting her chin. She hid the tremor in her voice remarkably well for someone with a Demon's blade at her throat. I flared my aura for the simple joy of seeing her flinch.

"Betrayal. Deception. Treason and treachery. There is nothing more repulsive to me than Judas' kiss, Princess, nothing more vile than a turn-coat. And you, you deplorable creature..."

I reared back and swung the axe, missing the top of her head by an inch and making her duck to avoid it. 

"You are the epitome of all I've described. And unfortunately for you..." I growled lowly, leaning in close, "Your Caesar is a good friend of mine."

I let my words sink in before removing the axe from the wall and turning abruptly to walk back to the bed.

"Now," I said as I lowered myself to the plush surface and fixing my eyes on the shaken girl across the room, "what brings you to my humble prison?"

JERICHO'S POV:

We began the trek to the hotel, auras discreet and energy radars turned up full blast. We took it slow, keeping to the alleyways and street corners and avoiding the open street. Virgil and Sean carried Mark, while I carried Chica, using my magic to augment my strength and lessen the strain. 

About ten minutes in, Virgo held up a hand from the front of the group, calling us to a silent halt. We stopped, waiting as she narrowed her eyes and turned in a slow circle, serching the rooftops above. Not three seconds later, Virgil began doing the same, looking around uneasily. 

Then Sean. 

Then me. 

"We're being watched," I breathed. Virgil and Sean gently laid Mark on the ground as I did the same with Chica. We drew our weapons and formed a protective circle around their unconscious bodies without the need for a verbal cue, preparing ourselves for a fight. I gave Atticus my daggers.

"Can you guys tell what species it is?" I whispered to Sean. He considered it before shaking his head. 

"No... there are too many mixed signatures. We're dealing with multiple enemies here, and not of just one species." 

"Fuck. Is there a draft over here? Oh no, those are just the fans the shit is gonna hit," Virgil muttered. 

"Do you have to be such a buggering smart arse all the time?" Snapped Atticus.

"Guys..." I whispered.

"No. I take a few days off every once in awhile," Virgil responded smugly. 

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep, you blithering pisspot!" 

"I was gonna say the same thing... without the accent," Virgil shot back. 

"Guys!" I hissed.

"Most countries consider my accent an aphrodisiac, mate. What've you got?"

"You little-" 

"Shut up!!" The rest of us   
whisper-yelled in unison. They shut their mouths. 

It was a good ten minutes of tense silence as the unseen foes circled us from varying distances.

"Why aren't they attacking? Atticus asked softly. It was another minute before the silence was broken again.

"Maybe they're not trying to capture us because they know we're already trapped," Sean said slowly, as if testing the validity of his words as he spoke.

"What?" I asked in confusion. 

"Damn. I think he's right," said Virgil, "they know we can't escape forever because they already have a trump card..."

"They know we have to go back to save our friends," I finished. Dirty bastards. The group stiffened as the energy signatures seemed to close in tighter. Laughter became audible from every side, getting louder and louder before both the sound and the energy began fading away, leaving a single high pitched giggle from somewhere right above our heads.

Suddenly, a white piece of paper appeared fifteen feet in the air and fluttered down slowly to land on Mark's forehead. With that final event, the very last of the energy faded away, leaving the street silent and still once more.   
We relaxed and sheathed our weapons; Atticus tried to return my daggers but I refused, giving him the sheaths to attach to his belt. 

"Guys... look at this," Sean called, prompting us to gather around him. He was looking at the mysterious piece of paper. It was written on cardstock and intricately embossed with fancy vines, leaves and flowers.

"Listen to this..."

 

To The Outsiders:

The noble heads of the current House Council request the pleasure of The Outsider's company   
at a ball in honor of this year's Gathering, to be held Tomorrow evening at eight o'clock.

We apologize in advance on the behalf of all those attending for any unfortunate repercussions that may occur in the unlikely event that you should decline. 

We eagerly await your response.

\- Allistair Sanders Kain

 

When he finished reading, we exchanged confused and worried glances. 

"Okay..." I began slowly, "Does anybody want to explain what I missed?"  
Sean sighed and ran a hand through his green hair.

"Yeah, but I gotta warn you... you missed a whole fucking lot."


	51. 51

Sean's POV:

"Alright, but I gotta warn you... you missed a whole fucking lot," I said, realizing that Jericho had heard nothing of the explanation I gave Mark and Chica while we were in that cell. 

I was mostly surprised that she hadn't notice- 

"VIRGIL?!" She screeched, finally seeing the previously martyred Djinn, "what... you're... YOU'RE ALIVE!!" 

She squealed and ran to him, locking him in a tight bearhug that made him stiffen and squirm. 

"Uh... y-yeah. Like he said, you missed a lot," Virgil chuckled nervously, looking uncomfortable. Jericho squeezed him once more before letting him go and jumping in a circle while continuing to squeal happily. Everyone looked on in amusement as Virgil crossed his arms and scowled through his obvious blush, unused to the positive attention. 

"Yeah, okay, I'm happy to see you too... I guess..." he muttered grudgingly.

 

Virgo doubled over, giggling at the sight of her brother being put on the spot. 

"Ugh... you guys are so freaking extra," he groused, stomping of to lean against a wall. 

"Aw, c'mon Gillie! Smile a little for once!" His sister pouted. 

"Can't. Tragic botox incident," he snarked over his shoulder.

"Wait. Did she just call you-" I started with a smile.

"Oh my fucking- stop! Too much! Nope!" Virgil snapped, waving his hands as if he could ward of our snickers.

 

"Okay, now I just have a couple more questions..." Jericho said when she  managed to sober up.

"Who are you," she pointed to Virgo, "Why are you here," she pointed to Atticus before turning to me, "And where are Felix and Marzia?" 

Her question was answered in the next second when the sound of rapid footfalls drifted around the corner before a silver blur shot into view, skidding to a stop at the mouth of the alleyway. We all looked on in bemusement as she silently assessed the situation before slowly raising herself out of her fighting stance. She sheathed her sword calmly as if she hadn't just come blasting around the corner in full   
ass-kicking mode for no reason.  

"Well. That answers one question," quipped Virgil as Virgo wooped and ran to hug Marzia. The seasoned warrior dodged her easily, drawing a pout from the young Djinn. Marzia scanned the rest of our group with raised eyebrows as she placed a hand on Virgo's forehead and held the hyperactive girl at arm's length. 

"...And just what did I miss?" She asked slowly, looking from face to face.

I sighed again. 

"A lot. Where's Felix?" I asked. Marzia shrugged.

"With Anti."

"WHAT?!" we exclaimed simultaneously. Marzia opened her mouth to explain when she was cut off by a cloud of green shadows that shot from the sky like a meteor to land on the sidewalk at the edge of the alley. A smirking Anti stepped out of the neon plume, acknowledging our stunned faces with a nod before passing us to walk up to Jericho. Seeing as he had helped all of us in some way at some point, we didn't bother to draw our weapons. 

Anti stopped in front of Jericho, crossing his arms and casually  returning her cheeky smile that made me wonder what went down between them. 

"Pleasure working with you, Jay," Anti grinned, extending his hand. Jericho smiled as they shook on some unspoken term. 

"Likewise, Anti." 

'What did I miss?' I wondered. 

I nearly slapped myself for the thought. 

Anti nodded before turning  survey the scene with an expression of mild curiosity.  

"Not that I give a wild flying fuck," he said flippantly, "but what did I miss?" 

I groaned. 

"A lo-" 

"You missed me, you arse!" Yelled Atticus, who had been quietly stewing until that moment. He shocked us all by marching right up to one of the most feared Paranormal beings on the planet and jabbing a finger into his chest. 

"You forgot about me, you insufferable git!" He growled. Anti just grinned and crossed his arms, looking infinitely amused.

"Aww, you missed me!" He chuckled. The kid practically had steam coming out of his ears. 

"Where the bloody hell have you been?!" He yelled. The Demon shrugged. 

"Charity." 

Atticus' face went blank before he turned to let his head thump against the wall.

"Dear God, I'm going to have a stroke," he muttered wearily, "I'm going to have a stroke at ten years old."

"Jesus Fucking Christ..." Virgil muttered tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. I couldn't help but agree.

"Anti!" I shouted, bringing their bickering to a halt, "Where. Is. Felix?"

"Oh, Pewds? He's fine, probably. Should be here any second now if he hasn't fainted," Anti said casually. I was about to blow a gasket when a light whirring sound followed by a crash and a yelp came from just around the corner. 

"Skit oska!!" 

"Told ya," Anti smirked. I shot him a nasty glare as I rushed over to help Felix, who had apparently crashed a stolen bike right around the alleyway. 

"Goodness gracious me! What happened to you?" Exclaimed Virgo as she followed suit and took Felix's other arm, bringing him over to sit against the wall. 

"This gigantic fucking bag of dicks  left me in the dust, that's what!" Felix shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Anti, "I had to jack a bike to catch up!!" 

"You needed the exercise anyway," Anti said dismissively.

"Whatever, you fuckin' pea pod."

He fell silent as he scanned his surroundings, blinking in confusion.

"Uh... What did I mi-"

"Felix, I swear to God if you finish that sentence I will flay you on an altar of salt and rubbing alchohol," I said stonily. Felix snapped his mouth shut as Virgo patted him on the shoulder. 

"You kind of missed a lot." 

 

 

 

Oh, I forgot; kudos to my bro Wraythskitzofrenik for the altar of salt and rubbing alcohol quip. 


	52. 52

Jericho's POV:

We were all sitting quietly in a moderately sized motel room, all nine of us taking a moment to process the stories we'd exchanged. 

Sean and I were sitting on the edge of the bed where Mark and Chica laid snoring, while Virgil lounged in the chair that he'd childishly called dibs on the second we walked through the door. Virgo sat cross legged on the floor by her brother, fiddling nervously with her hair. Anti and Atticus stood beside each other leaning on the wall opposite the bed. Felix sat comfortably by Marzia as she stood at attention by the door in a formal fashion that was almost comical.

Eventually, the silence was broken.

"So.... he kidnapped you," Sean said flatly to Atticus after awhile. Atticus and Anti nodded together.

"And what, you're just... cool with it?" 

They looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded once more in unison.

"Okay..." Sean sighed before turning to Anti, "and you're definitely not with Fell anymore? How do we really know?" 

Anti raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Uh... first of all, I wouldn't risk my life for anybody unless it was to fuck with someone else. Secondly," he raised his voice, "I risked. my fucking. life. Now I've never understood all the intricacies of human interaction, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that counts for something."

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances while Anti rolled his eyes at our reaction. 

"I don't believe this," he muttered. 

"He's not allied with that beast," Atticus said suddenly, speaking up for the first time since he shocked all of us by shouting in Anti's face and escaping with his life. 

"I've seen what Fell can do. I've witnessed his cruelty firsthand. If Antioch was associated with that monster..." he shook his head, and  crossed his arms.

"I would never willingly follow him. The fact that I'm here is proof enough that he is worthy of your trust." 

A strange look passed over Anti's face as he looked at the child standing by his side, coming to his defense. He suddenly dissolved a moment later, slipping past Atticus, under the door, and out of sight. Atticus closed his eyes before the Demon had even finished dissolving; he didn't react or even turn to look as the green cloud of shadow left the room, only opening his eyes when it was gone. His expression was unfathomable when he looked at us again. The calm intensity of his wizened gaze made me wonder what could have happened that had aged him so much. 

"Honestly? It really isn't," Sean said after a beat, "I've learned not to trust any being in this world, human or not. I've been double crossed by a lot of people, kid. some of them were younger than you."

He fell silent, letting his words sink in. Felix stood, drawing our attention to him. 

"Why didn't you tell us about this before, Jericho?" He asked, sounding slightly hurt.

"I... I can't explain it, but I just... I felt like it wasn't my story to tell. I'm sorry," I apologized, looking down at my lap. 

"Enough of this. There is no need to open a bottle of worms," Marzia cut in. 

"That's open a can of worms, Marzia," Felix corrected in exhasperation, "And it's not even in the right context. Seriously, are you doing this on purpose?"

"Quiet. What I mean is we have more important things to worry about," she snapped. 

"She's right," Virgil grunted as he eased himself out of his chair, "apparently we have a ball to prepare for. Joy." 

Anti's POV:

"I would never willingly follow him. The fact that I'm here is proof enough that he is worthy of your trust." 

I looked at Atticus as he stepped up in my defense despite having known me for only two weeks. I felt...

Strange. 

The room suddenly felt small and cramped. I dissolved and shot under the door, down the hallway, and up three flights of stairs, only stopping when I reached the roof. When I reformed, I was on the very edge, so close that my toes were hanging off the roof. I inhaled deeply and looked up at the stars and the moon's mocking grin. Was it night already? Where had the time gone? 

When did the sun stop burning?

When did things change? 

When did I change?

No matter how deep within myself I searched, I couldn't find a specific turning point. Was it Fell's betrayal? Was it my connection with Sean? With Atticus? 

Maybe I'd been changing for years without even knowing it, broken apart and put back together slowly, piece by piece as the time slipped by right under my nose. 

A part of me missed the euphoria that came with each kill, the taste and smell of blood, the thrill of the hunt. I missed the control. I missed the power. For the second time in as many weeks, I doubted myself.

Because of him...

Anti's POV, Two Hours Earlier:

With one final heave, we thrust the Caduceus forward, piercing Fell's throat and nearly decapitating him. After a moment, we ripped the weapon from his neck and looked on coldly as he collapsed without so much as a gurgle as he began to dissolve even faster. 

Dark and I immediately separated from Jericho, glad to have our independence back; my fierce satisfaction aside, the experience of having someone else at the wheel was pretty fucking awful.   
Dark left a heartbeat after he was free and whisked Jericho's spirit away with him as he departed, probably to help her return to her own body. 

I sighed into the Darkness after they were gone, lingering for a few moments to watch the harsh gold of Fell's dreamscape fade away into dust. It was slow and spasmadic, like a stuttering heartbeat. I reveled in my victory a few seconds more before preparing myself to depart as well. 

"A N T I O C H..."

I froze at the harsh, labored hiss that tore through the silence, turning to look down at the crumbling mess of shadows that was the mighty Fell 'iikh. His eyes speared into mine as his form continued to devolve. 

"I'm surprised, Fell; if I were you I would've ditched this sunk cost ages ago," I said coolly. 

"Do you think... that you've won... Antioch?" He rasped. I cocked my head, genuinely surprised at his unwillingness to let go of the fabrication that was causing him so much pain. 

"Nah. This wasn't a real win. It was fun to watch as you Fell apart though," I grinned. My smile faltered at his breathy chuckle. 

"I'm not... the only one you are... battling," he whispered as the shadows crept up his neck. I lifted my wrist and mockingly checked my nonexistent watch. 

"Whatever bullshit you're gonna spill, you better spit it out quick; you look like a bad acid trip from the backside of Picasso's nightmares."

"Everyone looks at me... and sees... a monster..." Fell whispered, "but what do they see... when they look at you... Antioch?"

"What?"

"Do they see power... presence... or something... else?"

I was silent.

"What... do you see?" 

His next words sent a chill down my spine.

"W H A T... A R E   Y O U...    
B E C O M I N G ?" 

With one final smile, he let himself go, exploding into a trillion particles of gold and black. 

And I fled. 

Present:

I came out of the memory with my fists clenched so hard that they shook, my nails cutting into my palms. I lifted my hands to my face and watched the blood trickle slowly over my skin before dripping onto the ground. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of each drop splattering onto the concrete, took a deep breath of the salt-and-iron air... Even my own blood smelled different to me now.

What am I becoming? What do I want to become?

I struggled to sort out my scrambled thoughts. I felt torn apart; there was a war inside me, a violent standoff between the part of me that coveted the throne of a God, that was driven solely by an all consuming lust for power and control...

And whatever I was now. 

What do I want to be?

I remembered my possession of Sean's body two weeks earlier, when I'd taunted him and belittled him, called him weak for loving and allowing himself to be loved. I told him that I was fighting to rule, to possess. I told him that sentiment would only hinder the fulfillment of that dream.

I remembered when I had watched Jericho flee from Mikhail, when she forgot her backpack. I remembered looking into her mind and saw her love and compassion, remembered  how easily I took advantage of those things. 

Was I weak now? Like them?

What do I want to be?

I suddenly resented the changes that were happening inside of me. I didn't know what I wanted anymore, but I knew what I didn't want:

Love. Sentiment. Weakness.

"Antioch?" 

I whirled around from the edge of the building with a hiss, angry with myself for being caught off guard. I stiffened when I saw who it was. 

"...Atticus."


	53. 53

Anti's POV:

"Antioch?" 

I whirled around from the edge of the building, angry at myself for being caught off guard. I stiffened when I saw who it was. 

"...Atticus."

I took a deep breath and turned back around, involuntarily clenching my fists again.

"Go back inside, kid."

"I... I sensed the imbalance in your aura," he said. I could hear the soft taps of his feet on the rooftop as he approached, ignoring my words as always. Stubborn little brat. I closed my eyes. 

"I said go back inside. Now." 

I could sense the waves of apprehension that were rolling off of him. In a messed up way, his slight fear actually brought me a little bit of comfort... Until I realized that the fear he was feeling wasn't for himself. He wasn't afraid of me; He was afraid for me. 

Why?

"Antioch? Are you okay?" He asked as he stopped behind my shoulder, making a surprised noise when he looked down at the blood that was still leaking from my hands. 

Why?

"You're bleeding! What happened?" He asked, reaching for the hand nearest him. I stiffened as he grasped my wrist. 

Why?

He gently pulled me backwards, trying to get me to follow him back inside. I didn't budge, didn't acknowledge his efforts at all. 

"Atticus..." I said in a warning tone, but he didn't take the hint. God, What was wrong with him? Couldn't he sense the rage inside me? Did this kid have any sense of self preservation?

"C'mon, Jericho can heal y-"

"Why?" I interrupted softly. I felt his confusion at my vague question.

"Uh... Because you're bleeding...?" He said uncertainly. I growled in frustration, a vibration in my chest that was too low for him to hear.

"Why. Do. You. Care?" I ground out, my ire growing with each passing second. 

"What are you talking about, Antioch? Come inside, jeez," he said in exhasperation as he tried to pull me again. 

That's when I snapped.

I completely lost control; I twisted my hand out of his before whirling around to grab his own wrist, squeezing so hard that the bones nearly fractured. He cried out, trying to free himself. I no longer bothered to hide my aura, forcing him to wince and squint at me through the harsh light I knew he hated.

"A-Antioch..?" He stammered. I looked down on him stonily, tamping down on my emotions and throwing up my mental barriers to make certain my weakness remained hidden. In a sudden fit of insane curiosity, I searched his face and skirted around the very outer edges of his mind that I wasn't prevented from accessing, looking for any uncertainty, any fear.

Only he wasn't afraid; shocked, yes. Confused, yes. But this kid, even when I was on the verge of breaking his God damn hand...

'He trusts me.'

I snarled at the thought and put all of my magic into my aura for a split second, making him cry out in pain and turn his head away, covering his eyes with his free hand as he tried to yank his wrist out of my grip. I didn't relent as he struggled against my hold, instead slinging him around by his arm and sending him flying across the roof with a wordless shout of frustration.

He would have cracked his skull open on the concrete if he hadn't had enough sense to cover his head with his arms while he was still in the air. Instead, he landed harshly on his side with a sickening pop that told me he had dislocated his shoulder. I watched as he skidded the last six feet or so to the opposite ledge, stopping just short of making the four story drop to the ground. 

He rolled to his back, somehow managing not to scream as his shoulder was jostled by the movement. He turned his head towards me, fixing his tear filled eyes on my emotionless face as I steadily approached him. My rage burned even hotter in my chest at what I found- or didn't find- when I met his gaze;

Confusion, Shock, and Pain, Same as before. But not fear. 

It was atounding; After all the shit I just put him through, there wasn't a single trace of terror in his eyes. Even after I dislocated his fucking arm, he wasn't angry or afraid at all; the only fear I could find in him was worry on my behalf, like he thought that the proper response to his life being threatened was to be concerned about my wellbeing. 

It was ridiculous how he still stubbornly believed that whatever I did, however bad it got, I wouldn't let him die. By some miracle he somehow still trusted that I wouldn't go that far. Maybe he was as crazy as I first thought.

I finally came to a halt in front of him so that his body was between me and the edge of the roof. He met my eyes steadily even as he fought for air, his labored, halting breaths piercing through the silence of the sleeping city. Beads of sweat rolled down his young face as he grimaced with the nearly unbearable agony that comes with any dislocated limb. When I spoke, it was quiet, almost too low to hear.

"Why?"

He blinked rapidly in confusion, unable to speak through his pain. Hell, he was probably having trouble thinking right then; most grown men would have passed the fuck out by then.

"Why do you care?" I asked again, my voice stiff and monotone. Once again, Atticus was unable to answer; his mouth opened and closed, but the most he could manage was a half-baked noise that could have been either a whimper or a groan. 

Unable to take it anymore, I suddenly growled and yanked him up by his neck, holding his face level with mine so that his feet dangled more than a foot off the ground. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream that was choked off by the pressure as he squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed at my wrist with his functional arm to try and lessen the strain on his neck. Blood from the self inflicted gashes on my palms ran down his spasming throat all the way to his chest, drawing thin crimson lines through the beer bottle-shaped scar tissue that marred his collarbone. 

"WHY DO YOU CARE?!" I screamed in his face, wishing I could access his mind to really drive the point home. His teary eyes flew open wide at my question as he struggled for the breath required to answer. I loosened my grip ever so slightly, just enough that he could speak. 

"A-Anti...och... th-this isn't..." He rasped before I cut him off by tightening my hold on his throat once more. I saw his eyes widen as I let out the sinister giggle that I hadn't used in weeks. 

"This isn't me? Huh? Is that what you were gonna say, kid?" I asked quietly, my voice shaking from restrained laughter. 

"Oh no... this is me, all right. This is me being what I was born to be!"

I turned so that Atticus' feet were no longer dangling over the relative safety of the concrete roof. He stopped struggling immediately, letting his body go limp except for the hand on my wrist. I held him up by his jaw and the area just beneath it, allowing him to breathe so he wouldn't pass out on me. I leaned in closer.

"This is me, kid, whether you wanna believe it or not. This is what I was BEFORE YOU CHANGED ME!!" I roared, giving him a firm shake, "BEFORE YOU MADE ME WEAK!!"

He flinched as I screamed, closing his eyes again. A few seconds later, he hesitantly opened them, turning them slowly back to meet my own. I drew back in surprise.

There it was.

Fear.

In the entire two weeks that we'd been travelling together, his heart had always been pinned to his sleeve. Even after our less than stellar introduction, he willingly trusted and followed me, laid every part of himself out for the world to see like only a child can do.  
I saw his fire whenever he had the guts to stand up to me. I saw his determination to learn and grow, saw his curiosity and hunger for knowledge. His fortitude and will to survive was carved and burned visibly into his skin, while his natural kindness and compassion was displayed in his honorable actions. His eyes were young and bright, but also solemn and sad.  He was everything that I was never allowed to be, everything I was trying to convince myself that I didn't want to be.

His heart was in my hands now; I had ripped it off his sleeve and squeezed it mercilessly until it shattered. Now, his eyes shone bright with pain. A weary resignation replaced his confusion and shock. Utter betrayal replaced his blind, innocent trust. 

Now, he was afraid.

I got what I wanted. Didn't I? This was who I was, this is who I was meant to be. I was a monster, a Demon; I was made to be feared. I enjoyed being feared. 

This was what I wanted. 

'So why does my chest still hurt?'

My eyes began to sting as my vision suddenly blurred. I felt something warm on my cheek. I lifted a shaking hand to my face, feeling the wetness that had never once been there before, not once in two thousand long years. 

'Tears...'

I looked at Atticus' slightly blurred form as he looked back, silently pleading for his life.

I closed my eyes. It would be so easy to open my hand. To let him go. It would be so easy to just drop him and watch his fragile human body hit the ground three stories below. His bones would crack, his head would split open. His spine was almost guaranteed to break. If he fell the right way, his own ribs would tear a hole through his stomach or punture a lung. And afterwards I would look down and see his broken body sprawled out on the pavement, mangled and warped and surrounded by blood, so much blood. His lively young face would be frozen forever in an expression of shock and raw terror, his jaw stretched out in a silent scream. His eyes would be wide open and lifeless, staring at something beyond the sky that I'd never be able to see.

I was so close to opening my hand.

It would have been so. Damn. Easy.

I suddenly turned around and lowered him to a sitting position on the surface of the roof before releasing him completely, avoiding his eyes the entire time. I quickly walked past him to the middle of the roof, giving him my back as he coughed and gasped  for air. I felt guilt. Regret. I had to leave. I had every intention of fleeing from both him and the unwanted emotions. I wanted so badly to dissolve and escape, to fly anywhere, anywhere but the roof where I almost killed the closest thing I'd ever had to a friend... but I couldn't. 

Why?

It was like my feet were nailed to the ground. I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes as if I was trying to block my own tear ducts. My head pounded harshly as my ears began to ring, louder and louder until it was the only thing I could hear. I took a step and stumbled, nearly crashing to the ground as the world spun wildly around me. 

'What is this?'

I gasped for air, grinding my teeth together to keep myself from screaming. It was nearly impossible to breathe with my heart clenching painfully inside my chest, my lungs spasming and my throat tightening as if I was the one being choked. 

It was too much. I fell to my knees, unable to support my own weight. I squeezed my eyes shut and clawed at my hair as I folded myself over, curling in on myself. My entire body began jerking, seizing up involuntarily over and over again as it became even harder to control my breathing. What was that sound? Was that me? 

I was sobbing, I realized, my entire body quaking with the force. I felt so small, so helpless. I felt trapped and caged and a little numb. It hurt. Everything hurt. 

I stayed there on my knees for I don't know how long, shivering violently and folded in on myself  like I was trying to disappear. After awhile, a soft touch on my shoulder that I just barely registered broke through the haze of pain, prompting me to slowly lift my head. My eyes widened in disbelief.

Kneeling in front of me was the boy I had come so close to killing,  his left hand on my shoulder while his right arm flopped uselessly by his side. Beneath the grimace of pain on his tear stained face was an emotion I couldn't decipher. I searched his eyes again, but this time...

No fear.

After everything I just put him through, it was somehow gone. I didn't understand. I couldn't wrap my head around it. It didn't make sense. 

My eyes squeezed shut as my head drooped, hanging low as I was wracked with sobs once again. I was so, so scared, terrified of all the things I didn't know.

I didn't know what I wanted any more. I didn't know who I was, didn't know what I was, didn't know who or what I was becoming. I didn't know why I was being tortured with this new kind of pain, didn't know if it would ever leave. Maybe it wouldn't; maybe I would be struggling for breath for the rest of my life.

I hesitantly placed my hand over the one on my shoulder. I barely felt my mouth move when I spoke. I heard the words before I even realized that I was the one that said them:

"I'm... sorry..." 

I felt Atticus' hand jerk, and for one awful moment, I thought he would do the smart thing and leave me alone on the roof. But then he squeezed my shoulder softly before leaning down and resting his forehead on the crown of my head as I stared at the ground.

Why?

I don't know how long we were there. I realized later that he must have been in excrutiating pain the entire time from his dislocated shoulder, but he stayed anyway. 

Why?

Eventually I heard the sound of the roof door opening again, followed by several exclaimations of shock and outrage. I didn't look up as Atticus was ripped away, didn't react when someone grabbed the back of my neck and began dragging me somewhere.

"NO! STOP, DON'T HURT HIM!! LET GO!!" 

Atticus' scream was the last thing I registered before everything faded away. 

 

What am I becoming? 

 

 

 

 

...Why?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why would anybody care?


	54. 54

Atticus' POV:

After everyone finished  relaying their experiences to one another, they began to question me and Antioch. They first asked me about my past, family, where I came, and how I came to be with Antioch. I didn't answer any of the questions, leaving them to drift away in the silence and hope that the others would take the hint. After the first five questions, Antioch finally intervened.

"Can it! He'll tell you if he wants to," Anti snapped, "And I picked him up in Tomatain a day before the battle at the Lochness. Granted, he wasn't exactly expecting it..." he trailed off with a shrug.

That settled that. 

Neither I nor Antioch told them about my visions or anything about my powers past my mysterious role in Jericho's revival. Jericho kept mum as well, saying only that we'd met in a dream. I resolved to thank her later.

I listened silently as the others interrogated Antioch. They were wise to be suspicious, of course; from what I had gathered, their past encounters had been less than amicable, and I knew from experience that he was a dangerous and formidable enemy to have.

I only spoke up when Sean asked about Fell.

"He's not allied with that beast," I cut in, "I've seen what Fell can do. I've witnessed his cruelty firsthand. If Antioch was associated with that monster..." I shook my head and crossed my arms.

"I would never willingly follow him. The fact that I'm here is proof enough that he is worthy of your trust," I said evenly, speaking with confidence.

I saw Antioch's head turn toward me slightly, but didn't turn to look, keeping my gaze on Sean. Suddenly, the Demon beside me dissolved, shooting past me and under the door without warning or word. I closed my eyes. I should have known that would be his reaction. He wasn't cruel to me, but neither was he kind; his ability to give and recieve affection was sorely lacking, if it was even there at all. I opened my eyes, letting none of my troubled thoughts show on my face.

They talked for a bit longer before Marzia cut them off.

"Enough of this. There is no need to open a bottle of worms," she broke in.

"That's open a can of worms, Marzia," Felix corrected with an eyeroll, "And it's not even in the right context. Seriously, are you doing this on purpose?"

"Quiet. What I mean is we have more important things to worry about," she growled.

"She's right," Virgil grunted as he stood, "apparently we have a ball to prepare for. Joy." 

I watched as Virgil began to explain exactly what would happen at the House ball. Not interested in the slightest, I looked down and fiddled with my hands, absently wondering where Antioch had run off to.

"Yo, space cadet! Earth to idiot!" Virgil snapped his hand in front of my face. I didn't react but to flick my eyes up to his face. He crossed his arms, looking peeved.

"This is important shit, Harry Potter. If you-"

"I'm already amply versed in formal etiquette, you precocious twit," I cut in, keeping my tone quiet and aloof, "and besides, your less-than-dulcet drone of a voice is even less riveting than the subject matter. It certainly isn't the most songful thing I've had the displeasure of hearing."

The room was silent for a good five seconds.

"Where did a little kid like you learn how to talk like that?" Felix asked bemusedly. I shrugged.

"The same way an old skeez like you does; having a thesaurus on hand when reading and making an effort to avoid vapid subjects like this one," I said, shooting Virgil a look. Both he and Felix scowled. 

"Dude. We need to get this guy an IQ test," Sean chuckled. My mouth lifted into a smirk. 

"I already had it done professionally eight months ago. It did cost me, mind you; I had to save up my money for two months."

"Wow. What's the verdict, Einstein?" Virgil snarked sarcastically. 

"One hundred and ninety eight," I said smugly, grinning at the looks of shock on their faces before turning to coolly regard the offending Djinn.

"So your jab was a little bit off, seeing as Einstein only had an IQ of one hundred and eighty."

My statement was met with silence. 

"I might love shopping, but there's no way I'm buying your bull," Virgil declared, eyes narrowed. 

"I'd believe it," Grinned Sean, "he's at least smarter than you, that's for sure." 

Virgo giggled as steam practically flew out of Virgil's ears.

After bickering for a moment, Virgil launched back into whatever he was saying before. Unable to bear it any longer, I quietly slipped out of the room to look for Antioch. I pondered our odd relationship as I wandered through the halls.

I had never enjoyed being around more than two or three people at a time, if any at all; aside from Solomon and Sarah, Antioch was the only one who's company I found tolerable. I hadn't the slightest clue as to the reason. It didn't make much sense, especially considering his less than stellar first impression; He was not a loving Demon by any measure. 

And yet when the dust settled, I found myself trusting him almost automatically despite the trauma of our first meeting. 

Gracious, what was wrong with me? 

I sensed a wave of disquietude from above and realized he must have fled to the roof. As I climbed the stairs, I wondered what the matter could possibly be. Did it have something to do with me? Did the fact that I didn't hesitate to jump to his defense really disturb him that much?

When I reached the roof, I was struck by the serenity of the sleeping city; with the absence of cars and most of the lights, there was nothing to be seen, felt, or heard but the breeze and the night and the stars. I took a moment to drink it all in before another wave of restlessness reminded me of the the reason I made the trip. 

His aura was flaring involuntarily in his agitation, making him easy to spot. He was perched precariously on the far edge of the building with his feet hanging halfway off, staring up at the night sky. I marveled at how he was able to keep his balance in that state. I walked closer slowly.

"Antioch?" 

He spun around in surprise and saw me standing there. 

"...Atticus," he acknowledged coldly instead of giving me one of his usual cheeky greetings. I saw his face darken and felt him tamp down on his emotions before he turned away in a clear dismissal, returning to his original position.

"Go back inside, kid."

I was shocked and slightly hurt at his rejection, but I stubbornly persisted.

I found out very quickly just how much of a mistake that was. 

The pressure he exerted on my wrist when he grabbed it was nearly unbearable, even for my impressive pain tolerance. I tried to pull back once, but stopped trying when I realized he wouldn't budge.

I had somehow never been afraid of him, not truly; The only time I felt I had cause for true fear was at our first meeting. Even now, when I was staring into the cold, stony face that was far more intimidating than even that scarring first encounter, all I felt was confusion and concern. 

Why was he being like this? Was it something I had done? There had to be something I could do to calm him down; I didn't think he'd-

When I suddenly went flying across the roof, I didn't have the chance to be afraid; it all happened so fast that I didn't realize what had occurred until after I was already airborne. All I felt was shock... until I hit the ground. 

I heard the muted pop before I felt the pain. 

It was easily the third most excruciating experience of my life, the first two being from my father. I gritted my teeth to hold back my scream and rolled over to lock eyes with my friend through a flood of confused tears. I watched him as he slowly approached, suddenly hyperaware of how close I was to the edge of the roof. 

He was still in there somewhere. He had to be. Aside from Solomon and Sarah who could no longer remember me, he was my only friend. Losing that would break me more than the ground below.

I tried to tell him that, tried to say something, but I couldn't take in enough breath. I tried to tell him that it wasn't too late, that he could still come back from this....

"Why? Why do you care?" He asked softly.

Why did I care... did he really not know the reason? 

'I care Because you do, Antioch. It might have crept up on you, you might not have known it, but you do.

He suddenly snarled and yanked me upward by my neck, dangling me two feet above the ground.

I care because my life has become so much better thanks to you. I don't have to run and hide, don't have to worry about where to sleep or what my next meal will be.

My shoulder spasmed and protested as I kicked and struggled, nearly blacking out with the pain. 

You cared enough to take care of me, to make sure I had food and a bed and more than two pairs of clothes. You even cared enough to listen to my story. 

"A-Antioch... th-this... isn't y-"

You cared enough to worry when my powers overwhelmed me, cared enough to try to help.  

"This isn't me? Huh?"

This isn't you. 

"Is that what you were gonna say?"

I know this isn't you. We're the same, both cold and alone and hopeless. But you changed all that.

"Oh no... this is me, all right. This is what I was born to be!"

I care because you're my family.

He giggled madly, turning so that I was hanging off the roof.

I care because you're my brother.

"This is me, kid, whether you wanna believe it or not! This is what I was BEFORE YOU CHANGED ME!! BEFORE YOU MADE ME WEAK!!"

The color green means something different to me now. 

For a split second, I saw my father's insanity in his eyes. They flashed that same caustic neon green that was so similar to Saul's that for a moment, I was afraid. I was afraid that he wouldn't come back, that he would let me go, that he would be just like my father. 

Just like Fell.

Come back, Antioch...

Then, something changed in his eyes. Something broke, something shattered and melted away. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he lifted his hand to his face, feeling the tears that had begun to fall. 

I can't lose my brother. 

I felt his hand begin to open. I closed my eyes and waited for the drop...

 

And found myself on firm ground, desperately taking in great gulps of much needed air in between my coughs. I nearly blacked out from the vertigo that came with the sudden intake of oxygen and the agony that bloomed from my shoulder. I shut my eyes tight and waited for my head to stop spinning. My thoughts were a wild storm of fear for both my own life and for the Antioch I knew.

When I was finally able to move again, I weakly turned my head to search for him. I was shocked to see him on his knees a little ways away, hunched over and shaking violently as if he'd been wounded and was going into shock. I heard  strange, erratic gasping noises coming from him and realized that he hadn't been hurt...

He was crying. 

He was weeping in earnest, wracked with full bodied jerks  that were accompanied by loud, heart wrenching sobs. I felt my chest tighten as I watched the strong, self assured Demon collapse in on himself. Roiling waves of confusion, resentment and fear rolled off of him, so strong that my mind was nearly crippled with the force. I squinted my eyes against the force of his violent light, which was now a soft sea green.

"A-Antioch...?" I whispered hoarsely, still unable to fully speak. I rolled to my stomach, gritting my teeth against a scream as my vision tunnelled and blurred with the pain. I pushed myself to my feet and managed by some miracle to remain upright, swaying unsteadily as a light drizzle of rain began to fall from the silent sky. 

Fighting the blackness at the edges of my vision, I slowly made my way over to where he kneeled as the rain grew from a whisper to a roar. As I got closer, I realized that he was so far gone he might as well have passed out already; Not knowing how to deal with his newly formed emotions, he had retreated within himself in an effort to escape. 

I kneeled in front of him and placed my good hand on his shoulder and was surprised to find that his light was warm instead of cold. He raised his head at my touch, lifting his gaze slowly to mine. 

Sorrow. Regret. Pain. Confusion. Helplessness.

His eyes blazed with a sad, soft fire that was the same sea-green hue of his new light. He dropped his head again, as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up. He sluggishlishly lifted his hand and placed it on top of mine. 

"I'm... Sorry..."

I froze in shock, hardly believing his words. Had that fervent apology really come from Antioch? My Antioch?

I lowered my own head and  rested my forehead on the crown of his, determined to stay by his side for as long as I remained conscious. The heat from his light gradually began to settle into a dim glow as we stayed in that position for an indeterminate amount of time. 

Suddenly, there was a loud bang followed by multiple shouts of alarm and running feet splashing towards us through the rain. I struggled when I felt myself being torn away from Antioch, fighting whoever was holding me with all that I had. I was No longer able to feel my shoulder or even the rest of my body. 

I dazedly saw Sean holding an unconscious Antioch by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him  angrily through the water  towards the door.

"NO! STOP, DON'T HURT HIM!! LET GO OF ME!!" I screamed, going into hysterics at the thought of them harming him in such a helpless state. 

I felt a sharp pinch on the back of my neck before everything went black. 

Please...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please don't take my brother away from me.


	55. 55

Sean's POV:

As usual, the Djinns were the first to sense it. Virgil had stopped cold in the middle of his lecture, eyes widening to saucers before he and Virgo imediately dissolved and shot out the door with no explanation. 

Jericho and I felt it a second later.

The shock of energy that washed over us was so intense that I almost blacked out with the shock, the tangled web of raw emotion so powerful that I nearly wept.

...Anti?

Jericho and I sprinted after the Djinns, forcing a bewildered Felix and Marzia to follow. We burst out onto the roof in the pouring rain, weapons drawn and ready for the worst. 

The scene before us definitely qualified for the 'worst' category. 

Virgil was in the process of dragging a struggling Atticus away from Anti, who was kneeling in the center of the roof. His arms hung by his side so that his knuckles brushed the ground. He was hunched over listlessly, his head down and eyes hidden by the wet hair clinging to his face. He was breathing hard and shivering violently, with occasional twitches or jerks that almost made him look like he was having a seizure. 

"NO! STOP, DON'T HURT HIM!! LET GO OF ME!!" Atticus screamed, fighting Virgil like a wild animal as Virgo looked on with wide, worried eyes, not sure what to do with herself. Atticus had bruises on his face and a dark purple ring around his neck that told me he'd been strangled.

The other three humans and I shook ourselves out of our shock and ran over. 

"Dammit, would you... just fucking...! Ah, screw it," Virgil grunted before pinching the back of Atticus' neck. Jericho drew her wand and ran over as the boy's struggles began to slow. 

"What the fuck happened here?!" I yelled at Anti, shaking his shoulder. He gave no indication that he'd heard me. He remained comatose, staring numbly at the ground. I growled and grabbed the back of his collar, dragging him towards the roof entrance. I didn't know what happened, but I did know Anti. If he hurt Atticus...

"Don't... hurt... my brother..." Atticus whispered weakly as we passed before going limp, whimpering in his sleep. 

"Dude, his arm looks like... oh fuck, is it dislocated?!" Exclaimed Felix. I cursed when I turned to look at the unconcious boy in Virgil's arms. 

"Yeah. God, that's gonna be a bitch," Virgil muttered as he headed towards the door, "let's get these two inside. we can worry about whodunnits later."

Thirty minutes later:

"Okay, On three. Ready?" Sean told Marzia, who was holding Atticus in place as Sean prepared to pop his shoulder back into place. 

"One. Two. Three!"

The wet popping sound made the rest of us flinch and cringe. Atticus tensed up and let out a little scream before going right back to sleep. 

"Ewwww..." Mark shuddered as Chica whined and shook herself in agreement. 

"Not two minutes after we wake up, we have to deal with this?" 

"Sean, what did you do with Anti?" Jericho asked after giving them a chiding look. My face darkened automatically. 

"He's in the next room. Luckily, there's no one in the hotel due to the House's effects on normal humans, so I just kicked the door in and tossed him on the floor."

"Sean!"

"What?" I snapped, "Don't expect me to have any sympathy for that asshole. He's the one who did that!" I growled, gesturing to Atticus. 

"We don't know that. I mean, he's been helping us consistently ever since Anjali," Felix reasoned, "and the kid seems pretty fond of him. Maybe something set him off."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?! He's. A. Demon," I ground out angrily. Felix held up his hands. 

"Just saying."

There were a couple of light thumps and a faint whooshing sound that came from behind the wall I was leaning on. Anti's room. I scowled and stood, stalking to the door and flinging it open before Jericho stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Look, maybe one of us should-"

"No," I cut in, "absolutely not. He's my Demon, my problem."

With that, I jerked my shoulder away and walked out the door.

Anti's POV:

I opened my eyes groggily and blinked up at the ceiling, wondering what year it was. Shit, how long was I out? Where was I? 

...Oh. 

Right.

I sat up slowly as everything came flooding back, every emotion still just as sharp and raw. I felt like...

I felt everything. 

I put my face in my hands and groaned as my chest tightened again. Would this never end? Was I going to have emo coronaries for the rest of my fucking life? I groaned even louder at the thought. Why couldn't I just be numb? Like before? I wasn't happier (because that was literally impossible) but things were simpler then. Easier. Everything was clearer when I felt nothing. Now my mind was a jumbled clusterfuck of a different brand of insanity that made it hard to think. 

I heaved a resigned sigh and dropped my hands, lifting my tired eyes to the wall across the room. There was a mirror on the wall where I could see myself in all my pathetic, mopey glory; My hair was disheveled from the storm that I'd barely registered, and my normally baggy punk get up clung tightly to my body. Jesus, I looked like a wet puppy. Puffy bags sagged under my tired eyes, and dried tears tightened the skin on my cheeks. 

When I finally met my own eyes, a jolt of shock shot down my spine. 

'Those ...aren't... my eyes.'

 

The acidic neon rings that I was so used to seeing were now a soulful hybrid of blue and green. The deep, abyssmal blackness of my scleras was now white. 

Human eyes. 

I had human eyes.

I stared at myself dumbly for a couple seconds more before I swung my legs off the bed and stood. I walked slowly towards the mirror, watching as my reflection drew nearer and nearer until we were inches apart. I lifted a hand to the mirror and splayed it flat against the cold surface as my reflection did the same, matching my every movement. I returned my gaze to my own eyes, observing them distantly. 

This wasn't possible. It wasn't feasible. This was pure insanity... and coming from me, that said a lot. I saw my aura flare automatically with stress.

'No... NO!'

My power shone with the same sea green softness as my eyes, wavering calmly despite my agitation. I stared in amazement as it and my eyes continued to change against my will, lightening into a bright teal.

 

I drew back and slammed my fist into the mirror and through the wall, sending countless shards of glass flying in all directions. I yanked my hand out of the wall and sent the mirror's empty frame flying across the room where it lodged itself into the wall like a shuriken. 

I stood in the middle of the sky blue fire, my labored breathing the only sound in the room. That's when I felt it; that itch, that inescapable need that I hadn't felt in months. It was all too familiar; my ears began to ring, my vision began to sharpen, and my fingers began to twitch erratically. I felt the tension build, felt the stress tighten in my chest...

I gave in and snapped, summoning my sword with a snarl. I willed it to take the form I desired and grasped it tightly in my trembling hand. 

It had been so long...

Sean's POV:

I stalked towards Anti's room, my mood darkening with each step.

How could I have ever trusted him? How could I have let myself believe for a single second that my fiancee's murderer deserved a chance at redemption? I let my guard down for just a moment, and now Atticus was lying beaten and bloody in the next room.   
How could I have forgotten?

He was a monster.

I drew my crossbow and flung open the door to his room, resolving to kill him if he gave me the slightest reason... but I never got the chance.


	56. 56

Sean's POV:

I nearly dropped my crossbow out of shock. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

Swaths of bright green and blue light whirled around in wild tandem on the wall across the room, like a small hurricane. Several indescernable objects were thrown repeatedly at the white surface, leaving gashes and splatters of black at every impact. There was no pattern that I could see, no method to the chaotic whirlwind of darkness that was spreading rapidly across the wall; no two strokes were the same, varying in length, size, and shape. The wind from the violent maelstrom rustled my hair as I stood agog, not really knowing what to think. 

'Why... why... why...'

I drew back in surprise at the absent, feverish muttering that filled my head. Was that Anti's voice? Was that thing Anti?! 

I remained there for a couple more seconds, watching the images grow and branch out across the wall as Anti droned on in agitation.

"What the fuck...?" I said quietly. The lights slowed down a bit at the sound of my voice, letting me know that he was aware of my presence. Now that he had calmed down slightly, I could sort of see a couple of the objects within the cloud. It just looked like a bunch of sticks and small black rocks. What the hell was he doing? 

A large portion of the sea green light diverged from the rest to form a small pillar that spun and wavered, warping gradually into the familiar shape of my nemisis. He didn't turn to face me, instead keeping his attention on the wall. He had something in each hand that he was using to scribble across the surface while three other stick-like objects floated around him, working independently. Confused, I looked a little closer.

Were those...

Paint brushes? Was that paint? 

"Ink," Anti suddenly spoke aloud, making me jump. He still didn't turn to face me. 

"It's charcoal and ink. I don't usually do well with a lot of color," he continued absently. I cocked my head, anger forgotten for the moment. 

"What... are you doing, exactly?" I asked curiously, stepping a little closer to the object of his focus. The entire was almost completely covered in scribbles by that point. 

At first glance, the strokes of black seemed completely random, like some kid had taken a marker to the wall. But when I looked closer...

 

 

It was a collage of intermingling faces and bodies, all of them connected by the dark veins of ink that Anti was creating. All of them looked like they were in varying levels of either pain or numbness, some screaming, some sleeping, some writhing in pain. I looked from figure to figure in awe, discovering something new in every square inch of the impromtu canvas. 

"What-" I started to ask. 

"Do you know how many people I've killed?" He cut me off quietly.

I stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to the unexpected question. 

"Do you know how many lives I've taken? How many limbs I've cut off? How many teeth and fingernails and eyes I've removed?" 

The brushes that his shado- that his light held vanished as his aura retracted and disappeared, leaving bright spots in my vision. He continued to move his arms back and forth across the wall, not as wildly as before.

"Do you know how many people I've tortured? How many bones I've broken and blood I've spilt?"

"..." 

He huffed out a mirthless laugh at my silence. 

"Yeah... me neither."

I was honestly a little scared; this new side of Anti was even more unsettling than his usual insanity. It was a good ten seconds before he spoke again.

"How do you deal with this?"

I blinked. 

"What?" 

"How do you deal with it, Sean? The sadness," his hands stopped for a moment as he looked over his shoulder slightly, "The guilt." 

I struggled to find an answer through my shock. Why would he...?

"Why would an unbound Demon need to know that?" I questioned. Once again, he didn't answer immediately. I watched him carefully as he turned back to the wall and resumed his task.

"Because my chest hurts," he said flatly.

I was in shock. First his aura, and now this... was it possible that he'd somehow grown emotions without being bound? Did our link cause this? 

"I don't really know," I answered slowly, "you just... get used to it, I guess."

He stilled again.

"So it never stops?"

"Not exactly," I scratched the back of my head," your heart heals, but... it leaves a sort of... scar? I guess?" 

He nodded and returned his attention to the wall. 

"It bothers me. Not knowing the body count," he murmured absently, "it shouldn't. I shouldn't care. But I do." 

"...Why did you do what you did to atticus?" I asked, my voice growing a little harsher as I remembered why I was there. The charcoal stick in his hand broke, falling to the floor. He stared at it before summoning another one. 

"Because I didn't want him to care." 

He finally stepped away from the wall and turned. I jerked backwards in surprise when I met his gaze. 

"What... what the fuck?!" I exclaimed. He sighed, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"Yeah. I know."

"Your eyes-" 

"I. Know."

We examined each other silently, neither of us moving a muscle. I shook myself out of it, returning to the default glare I used when dealing with Anti.

"Don't expect me to forgive you," I whispered venomously. He smirked.

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

"You killed my fiancee'."

"Yes."

Murdered her."

"Yes."

"GOD DAMMIT!!" I suddenly exploded. I raised my crossbow and stalked forward, pressing the loaded arrow into his neck. He backed up, matching me step for step until his back was to the wall. He raised his head, his smirk widening. 

"Where was your conscience THEN, huh? Where was the guilt when you SLAUGHTERED HER IN COLD BLOOD?!"

His smirk didn't falter as I pressed the crossbow more firmly against his throat, drawing out a trickle of blood. 

"I should end you. Right here, right now," I hissed. He raised an eyebrow.

"You know you'd be ending us both, right?" He asked coolly. I snarled, putting my free hand on his forehead and yanking his head up at an angle. 

"It would be worth it. It would be so fucking worth it to see you break, so worth it to know you wouldn't be coming back this time," I growled, leaning in close, "I'm your vessel. If I killed you, you'd be down and out for good." 

"Do it."

I blinked, drawing back a bit to look at him. His smirk was gone. His turquoise eyes met mine steadily, unflinching even in the face of death. There wasn't a single trace of insanity in his gaze.

"Do it, Sean. Set us both free," he whispered in an almost pleading tone. 

"The blood I've spilt, the lives I've ruined... everything I've ever done..." he closed his eyes for a moment as if hiding from the thought. When he opened them again, they were sad and desperate.

"I... I can't do this. I can't take it all at once. It's too much."

He lifted a hand and gripped my bow, pressing the tip further into his neck. 

"I can't live like this, Sean."

He put his other hand over my trigger finger as I watched with wide eyes. 

"Please." 

He pressed the trigger.


	57. 57

Sean's POV:

"I... I can't do this. I can't take it all at once. It's too much."

He lifted a hand and gripped my bow, pressing the tip further into his neck. 

"I can't live like this, Sean."

He put his other hand over my trigger finger as I watched with wide eyes. 

"Please." 

What happened next was easily the most shocking and disturbing thing I'd seen in months. Considering everything I'd gone through since meeting Jericho, that said a lot. 

I shut my eyes before the trigger pushed home, my thoughts whirling in my head. Would it hurt? Would I feel the arrow pierce my own neck as well?

I couldn't believe that it was really happening. After all this time, I would finally have my revenge, finally see my promise to my fiancee fulfilled. I would finally see her again. Sheila...

Signe.

I went cold as the thought of her filled my head. Oh Jesus... What would Signe do if I died? I imagined her sobbing and cradling my head in her lap, running her fingers through my hair just like I did when I held Sheila's broken body. I imagined Signe's tears dripping onto my frozen, listless face as she rocked back and forth, calling my name, calling me back even though she knew I couldn't hear her. Just like me...

_______________________________  
Lying there on the ground, surrounded by the blood of the girl I'd planned on marrying, I swore revenge above all else.

I vowed to do everything to him that he did to Sheila, make him suffer for stealing her away from me. I would make him pay.

At any cost.

Even if it killed me.  
_____________________________

After all these years, as it was finally happening, I questioned my resolve for the very first time; could I do this? Did I actually need this? Did I really have enough hatred in my heart to let this happen, to abandon the life I'd built and the love I gained in Signe?

Was it worth that price?

 

_________________________

"If you want an apology, we'll be here a long time," Anti said.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to throw something, pummel something, to kill something. Namely him. I hated him. I hated him so god damn much! 

"Do you really?"

"What?" I asked dumbly. He continued to stare at me, expressionless.

"Clean out your ears, You sound like a broken record. Do you really hate me? Really? What point would there be in hating a lion for eating your pet? Right, there wouldn't be a point," he said with out waiting for me to answer, "It's just the lion's nature. You know good and well it's the same with me."

"You resent me, you resent my nature, but you don't hate me. So the question is," he sat back in the chair, resting the side of his face in his fingers as he observed me thoughtfully, "what's really eating you, Sean?" 

I looked at him for the millionth time like he was speaking Swahili. I blinked, once, then twice before letting my gaze fall slowly to the floor. What's really...?

My eyes widened a bit as I realized that no, I didn't hate him. I hated what he had done, I hated what happened, but I didn't hate him; I hated myself. Anti snapped his fingers and pointed. 

"Bingo."  
_________________________________

 

And here I was, staring into the eyes of the monster I'd been chasing for six long and bitter years. Only he was different now, as broken and weary as I was that night. Now he was surrendering, begging for death... and I had no idea what to think.

He put his other hand over my trigger finger as I watched with wide eyes. 

"Please." 

I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself as he pulled the trigger, making the choice that I couldn't. 

...

 

 

...

 

 

...

 

 

My heart pounded in my chest, blood roaring in my ears and adrenaline screaming through my veins as I waited for death. 

Two seconds crawled slowly by. 

Then five. 

Then ten. 

Nothing happened. 

Confused, I slowly opened my eyes, looking to Anti for an explanation. He was just as shocked as I was, staring back at me with a slack-jawed expression of awe and fear. He released his hold and dropped his hand limply to his side.

"What... how the fuck..." he whispered, trailing off into silence. I looked down at my bow, wondering if it had somehow malfunctioned. My jaw dropped.

Multiple strands of black smoke and acid green light surrounded the weapon, somehow holding it in stasis even after the trigger was pulled. I yanked my hand away from the weapon like it had burned me, backing away quickly as it remained floating in the air instead of dropping. Anti dissolved into a cloud of bright sea green and shot around the bow and out of the line of fire, reforming beside me. 

"I thought you didn't have shadows anymore," I said uneasily. I turned to Anti to see him staring at me, his expression guarded. He shook his head slowly.

"Sean.... that's not me," he said carefully, as if trying to calm a frightened child. He dropped his gaze as he spoke, looking pointedly at my right hand. A harsh chill made its way down my spine as I followed his gaze. 

What the fuck...

A cloud of that same caustic mixture of green and black swirled around my body so that it was slightly obscured, just barely visible underneath the dark aura. The fluid stream of shadow that held my crossbow hostage was connected to my hand.

"It's not me," Anti said again, his voice soft.

"Those shadows are yours."


	58. 58

Jericho's POV:

I held my hands over Atticus' hurt shoulder, healing it quickly before moving on to his other scrapes and abrasions. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but be pleased with my progress as a healer. The more I used my power, the easier it became. I only wished that I could show it off to Dark...

Feeling the apprehensive aura in the room, I glanced up briefly to see how the others were fairing; Marzia was fiddling with one of her kunai knives, while Virgil leaned on the wall beside her, eyes closed in a meditative way. Mark sat against the headboard on the other bed, staring somberly off into the distance while he absently petted Chica, who sat in his lap. 

Most of the tense energy came from Felix, as usual. As fun loving and playfully snarky as he normally was, he had a tendancy to focus on the negatives when there was trouble. I figured that maybe that aspect of his personality may have had a little something to do with his ferocity and 'shoot first, ask questions later' style in battle. 

"Felix," I said softly, smiling kindly when he turned to me, "it'll be okay. Sean knows what he's doing."

Though his expression was still grim, Felix nodded. 

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, "after everything I've seen that man do, there's no doubt in my mind that he can take on Anti. But..." he trailed off, his eyes becoming pensive and dark as his gaze fell to the floor.

"But...?" I questioned curiously. Felix hestitated, his aura radiating with unease.

"Anti's not the issue here," Mark cut in when Felix didn't answer, "the problem is Sean." 

"What?" I asked, surprised by his statement. Mark shook his head, turning his worried gaze to the wall across the room. He seemed to stare straight through it to where Anti and Sean were currently hashing it out.

"Whenever Anti appears or when we just talk about him, Sean gets this...this look," Mark tried to explain.

"We know Sean. We're practically family," Felix added, "but whenever Anti comes into the equation, it's like he's a different person. We're not worried that Sean will lose to Anti. We're scared that Sean is going to lose himself."

The room was heavy and somber under the weight of that last statement. 

'Sean...'

Suddenly, an emormous thud coming from the wall across the room made us all jump. Atticus moaned restlessly in his sleep, grimacing in something like pain.

Without a word, we dropped everything and rushed out the door and over to the next room, prepared for the worst. But nothing could have possibly prepared us for the chaos inside that room.

Anti was pressing himself into the wall on the far side of the room, clutching his shoulder that appeared to be (ironically) dislocated.

Sean was hunched over in the center of the room at the epicenter of a hurricane of acid green and black, screaming and clutching his head as if he was trying to keep his skull from falling apart. His eyes were wide open and unfocused, with nothing but pain and madness within them.

We were all pushed back further into the hallway before we could enter the room by both the sheer force of the powerful wind from the vortex of dark power.

"Anti! What happened?!" I shouted, hoping he could hear me over the wind. Still grimacing in pain, Anti opened his mouth to answer before he was seized by some invisible force that threw him across the room and slammed him flat against the opposite wall, suspended several feet above the ground. His mouth opened wide in a cry of pain that he didn't have the breath to voice.  
I tried to run to him- Demon or not, I considered him an ally despite everything he'd done. Virgil grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me into the wall beside the door before I could even think about charging in.

"Are you fucking insane?!" He shouted, "Not even you can walk in on that shit and come out in one piece!" He gestured sharply at the doorway before continuing, "Anti is barely holding it together as it is, and he's a fucking demon."

"Sean... sean! Fucking snap out of it!!" Anti managed to scream over the chaos, his face contorted in agony, "fight it, God dammit!! 

Sean didn't respond, too preoccupied with whatever was happening to him. The rest of us stood staring in shock just outside the door, unable to help our friend without signing our own lives away. 

Suddenly, the tempest of shadows reached a peak, spinning so fast that the furniture in the room began to tear itself apart. Small slices and abrasions began to appear on Anti's skin as the dark magic passed violently over his body. The Demon we had once considered our enemy called out desperately one last time.

"FIGHT IT!!" 

And then... it stopped. With one final gut wrenching roar from Sean, the storm of green and black imploded, the shadows converging rapidly on my friend before disappearing into his skin. Anti was dropped to the floor as the force that trapped him disappeared. He grunted as he landed on the shoulder he'd been clutching so tightly before groaning and rolling over to his back, keeping his weary eyes trained on his aggressor.

Sean fell heavily to his knees, his chest and shoulders heaving with deep, rasping breaths. A thin line of blood dripped off of his chin.

Shaking myself out of my shock and horror, I once again tried to run to him only to have Felix grab me by my upper arm and yank me back.

"No. Not until we know what's up," he said firmly, keeping his voice low as he observed the scene suspiciously.

The seconds ticked by in tense silence as Sean and Anti caught their breath. None of us moved a muscle.

Anti reached out weakly with his good arm, summoning a stream of... light?... That reached out to Sean and touched his forehead lightly. In the next second, Sean was out cold, slumping to the side in a dead faint. Anti's own eyes fluttered shut as we rushed to their sides. 

"God fucking dammit," Felix muttered as he and Mark hefted Sean between them, "first mark and chica, then atticus, then these two... if we have one more person pass out on us tonight, I'm gonna jump out that window."

"Tell me about it," I sighed. I knew I would probably have to borrow some power from someone for these two, especially after all the energy I'd already spent.


	59. 59

Jericho's POV:

"Tell me about it," I sighed. I knew I would probably have to borrow some power from someone for these two, especially after all the energy I'd already spent. 

As it turned out, I spoke too soon. 

Seans eyes snapped open, his shadows flaring to life around him like a violent umbra. Felix and Mark yelped in surprise as Sean dissolved, turning into a cloud of smoke that slipped through their fingers like sand. We all backed away as far as the perimeters of the room would allow, preparing for the inevitable aftershock. 

But ragnarok take two didn't play out; instead, the black nimbus that used to be Sean shot into the air and across the room. As if sensing exactly what was about to happen, Anti leapt in front of the window, his good arm out stretched in a warding gesture. 

"Sean, don't-" he began, but got cut off when the toxic emerald shadows split apart and rushed around him, shattering the window and continuing off into the night. Anti just barely dodged out of the way before Mark, Chica, and Felix darted to the window, calling frantically after Sean. They fell silent after a few seconds, their shout petering down to nothing as the hopelessness of the situation sank in.

Sean was gone.

Third Person POV:

Fell laid flat on the bed of a posh penthouse suite in that same city, his eyes shut tight against the pain of the mental wounds he was currently licking. He cursed everything and everyone he could think of as he laid there, helpless and hapless as he had ever been. Heavy beads of cold sweat gathered on his feverish forehead, adding to his discomfiture. If someone were to walk in on him in that moment, even a pathetic human... he wouldn't stand a chance. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage that came to naturally to him so that he could better focus on healing his own mind before destroying anyone else's. 

Suddenly, an unexpected but powerful blast of what could only be explained as pure light came rocketing in from the east, startling the Demon out of his work. 

Fell shot up in the bed, his head whipping towards the disturbance so fast his neck nearly cracked. He winced and clutched his pounding skull, growling lowly as the ill advised sudden motion took it's painful toll. His golden eyes narrowed in a grimace as he searched, only to fly wide open again when he zoned in on the epicenter of the storm of power, snake-like pupils blown to full capacity in his shock. It was a long time before he was even able to form an intelligent thought. In all his many years, no event had ever taken him unawares as much as this. Not even his Jericho had the capacity to surprise him so. He narrowed his eyes once more, considering this new information.

'I wonder, Antioch... just where is your head these days?'

It wasn't more than ten minutes later that something else just as extraordinary happened, yet another first in both human and paranormal history alike. This time, Fell grinned.

'Well well well... Going for a howl at the moon are we, little hunter?' 

The old Demon dissolved and shot out the window, flying full speed to the east. 

'We'll just have to see about that."

 

Jericho's POV:

The atmosphere in the room was somber and heavy before Anti eventually broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," the Demon said softly, looking uncharacteristically mournful, "I'd go after him, but-" 

He was forced into silence when Felix whirled around and slammed him into the wall by his throat. Anti gagged and struggled, pinned and fighting for his life for the second time that night. Felix held him there firmly as the rest of us looked on in shock at the stark intensity of the his rage. Marzia and I, who were close enough to Felix to see his eyes, saw the gold-yellow hue within them that usually preceded the rage state. I stepped back slowly and drew my Caduceus off my back, motioning to the others to do the same.

"What. Did. You. Do?!" Snarled Felix, giving the Demon a firm shake. 

"Felix..." Marzia said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder only to have it shrugged off sharply.

"I asked you a fucking QUESTION!!" Felix roared as he pulled back and slammed Anti into the wall a second time.

"Gah... I-I didn't..." Anti struggled to say. I was fully prepared to knock Felix out when the calvary arrived. 

A ten year old, sarcastic, intelligent, currently very pissed off calvary. 

"THRYSTA VA 'OARK!"


	60. 60

Sean's POV:

Pain. 

Pain was all that there was for me.

I flew over the rooftops in a daze, disoriented and confused. I had no idea what I was doing or how I was doing it; I just knew that I couldn't stop. I just couldn't. I felt like If I did, the heat and pressure mounting inside me would kill me. It was funny; Apart from a few light tingles every couple seconds to remind me that I existed, I couldn't feel the wind on my skin, couldn't smell the cool open air... I couldn't even see properly. It was like looking through a shattered window, with a thousand kaleidoscopic images all vying for my attention. 

For all intents and purposes, I just wasn't there. Not really. 

I had a pretty good Idea of what was going on. Somehow I was shadow cloaking, using a skill exclusive to Demons and Djinn that let them travel long distances in a fraction of the time it would normally take to do so. I had studied the process for years, just like I had picked apart every Demon ability. What I didn't know was why the hell it was happening to me.

I was beginning to weaken; I would fly for awhile, try to pause for a rest, feel the pressure grow, and start flying again to ease the pain. I had no idea how much time had passed me by while I was in that form. All I knew was that I was more tired than I'd ever been in my entire life, right down to my very soul. I just wanted it to stop.

'And what have we here?'

My incorporeal heart dropped in dismay at the sound of his voice.

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Don't do this to me, not now!!

I willed myself to go faster, pushing my exhaustion to the back of my mind. Damnit, where was the hotel? Why hadn't I kept track of my position?! I pressed forward desperately as Fell's malicious chuckle echoed in my head, gleeful and mocking.

'Aw... look at you. Like a newborn foal, struggling to stand on shaky legs.'

I tried to ignore him, tried to ignore the unnatural burn of exhaustion in muscles that a human shouldn't even have. God dammit, if I could just lose him...!

'I'm afraid it's far too late for that, boy.'

I was suddenly blindsided by a massive force that sent me- or my shadows, I guess- tumbling downward towards the rooftops at least a hundred feet below. If I'd had fully formed vocal chords at that point, I'm not ashamed to say that I probably would have been shrieking my lungs out. As it was, my screams were confined to my head as I plummetted down to earth, unable to dredge up the energy it would take to flounder my way back up or at least give myself a decent landing. I didn't know what would happen when I hit the ground in this form, but I knew that it probably wasn't going to tickle. 

Fell's laughter was the last thing I heard before it all went dark.


	61. 61

Jericho's POV:

"THRYSTA VA 'OARK!"

Felix was suddenly ripped away from Anti and thrown to the floor, Allowing Anti to stumble away, breathing harshly. Marzia ran to help felix as the rest of us turned to see one majorly pissed off tween standing in the doorway, gripping the daggers I had given him earlier. Both of the blades were glowing white-hot, almost like lightsabers.

"What. Did you do. To my brother?" Atticus snarled.

His eyes were glowing with a shudder- inducing intensity in that same bright white as waves of pure power twisted and roiled around him, held back, but only barely. Underneath him on the floor was a circle around two meters wide, filled with intricate, arcane magical symbols that I had never seen before in my life.

 

Light flared up from the symbols, making it seem like Atticus was standing in a ring of silver fire. It was nothing like the magic Virgil and Anjali had used in their circles. It was more complex, more intricate. 

"Atticus...?" I asked hesitantly, backing away slowly as everyone else followed suit. He didn't even acknowledge my presence, turning instead to Anti, who was still clutching his shoulder. Atticus extended his hand towards the wide-eyed demon, palm out. He closed his eyes for a second, his face twisting in concentration. 

Then he spoke.

"Bab 'rdek Hoaer. Memek Hoaer."

The rest of us gasped as the cuts on Anti's face began to close rapidly, leaving nothing but smooth skin in their place. The Demon yelped as his shoulder was shoved into place by an invisible force, accompanied by that sound I was coming to hate. Atticus turned slowly to the rest of us as Anti stared at his arm in mute shock, opening and closing his hand slowly.

"Tell me what happened. Now."

Munich Rauthaus dungeon, twenty miles south:

Mikhail sat in a rigid meditative position, his back and shoulders braced straight against the wall. He had no idea how long the three of them had been trapped in the moldy dungeon. He reasoned that it was probably no more than a day, though it felt longer. 

To his infinite ire, no one had come to explain the reason for their capture. So they were in the dark, in every sense of the word. Even their magic was bound by the runes etched into the walls of their prison and the shackles that bound their hands and feet. 

"...This sucks Wendigo butt," came a petulant voice from across the dark room. Mikhail sighed, not bothering to open his eyes. 

"You said the same thing a quarter hour ago, Signe. And a quarter hour before that."

"...Well it does," The Witch sniffed. Mikhail could practically see her crossing her arms and turning her nose up snootily at him. 

"It'll be fine, Sig. Just try and relax," Amy said from somewhere across the room. Signe harrumphed but fell silent, content to keep her complaints to herself until the next fifteen minutes rolled around. 

A quarter hour later, like clockwork, the silence was broken again. 

"...You can feel them, can't you?" The Witch asked quietly, all traces of playful petulance gone. I nodded silently, knowing she didn't have to see me to sense my grim affirmation. 

"They're changing. Anti and Sean, what's happening with those two... It's impossible," Signe said flatly. 

"Apparently not," observed Amy, drawing a derisive wave from her friend. 

"Quite," Mikhail agreed dryly, "but as astounding as all of that is, our commrades have larger problems to deal with." 

"The boy is finally awake," Signe murmured.

Jericho's POV:

"Tell me what happened. Now," Atticus demanded, his voice shaking with quiet rage. 

This was bad, very bad. The newborn power boiling inside of  him was a time bomb of nuclear proportions and I knew it. There was no way a child his age could begin to know how to control energy like that; if we didn't stop him before he went super nova,  he'd probably take the building down, maybe even a couple others as well. 

"Atticus, listen to me," I said softly, putting my hands up in a placating gesture, "you need to calm do-" 

"Silithis."

My voice was cut off as Atticus spoke. My mouth opened and closed, my lungs and heart still pumped, but I found that I couldn't speak. What had he done to me?

"Tell me what happened, Felix. Before I rip the answers from your mind," Atticus commanded darkly. Felix swallowed. 

"Anti did something to Sean. He made-" 

"I didn't do anything!" Anti interupted indignantly, "it was the link! I'll.... explain in a minute," he added after seeing the dumbfounded expressions on our faces. I looked on worridly as Anti slowly approached Atticus, stepping into the circle of magic shining on the floor. He crouched down and gingerly laid a hand on the boy's uninjured shoulder.

"Atticus. Look at me." 

Atticus' head turned slowly from Felix across the room to look up at Anti.

"You need to let this power go, kid. I have a pretty good idea of what this is, and right now? You're playing with fire. If you don't calm the hell down quick, you'll have our lives on your conscience. And that's only if you survive." 

Atticus stared at him for a second before closing his eyes tightly and lowering his head. His arm dropped to his side, his hand clenched tight into a trembling fist. 

"You can do it, kid," Anti encouraged, "Let it go."

The arcane circle beneath them pulsed once, then twice before flickering out like a dying lightbulb. The room was silent. 

Atticus' shoulders began to move, jerking up and down. My heart clenched when I realized what was happening. 

"W-What's happening to m-me?" He mumbled through his tears, hiccuping softly between words as he tried to keep his voice steady. Anti gently pulled him forward and embraced him, letting Atticus cry into his shoulder. 

"It'll be okay, kid. I won't leave again," Anti promised, "Never again." 

Munich Rauthaus: 

"Do you guys know something I don't? I'm kind of in the dark here, dude," Amy said crossly, "What did you mean 'the boy is awake?'" 

"The situation with Oliver Saul is complicated," Mikhail began to explain, "the Resistance has been keeping tabs on him and his family for years, so Signe and I knew who he was from that very first wave. Nearly every member of the Saul line possesses a talent for a type of magic that largely remains a mystery to even us." 

"And what magic is that?" Amy prompted when Mikhail fell silent. 

"...The magic of joining: Alchemy."


	62. 62

Sean's POV:

I couldn't help the involuntary groan that escaped me when I recovered from my surprisingly brief incapacitation. The shapeless form I was in when I fell had behaved as expected, spreading out upon impact before snapping itself inward once more like a rubber band. Suddenly remembering where I was, I brought my hands up to frantically feel my face, my shoulders, and my chest, just to make sure that I was really whole. I sighed in relief when I confirmed that my body was back to normal.

I grunted and forced myself to roll over and push up onto one knee, fighting the pain in my throbbing head and cramped muscles. As I had predicted, it didn't exactly tickle. I stood shakily, nearly falling on my face in the process. I was panting from the exertion of just standing; It was taking everything I had to stay awake. 

'Did you forget about me? I'm hurt.'

Ice trickled down my spine at the return of his voice, a menacing hiss that lanced through my skull like a hot knife. The air seemed to become thinner as his toxic aura made itself known, practically suffocating me with its presence. Thick beads of cold sweat formed on my brow as I struggled to take in air, fighting back the rising hysteria that threatened to overwhelm me. My eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of my tormentor before he caught me off guard.

'Poor, poor boy... you must be so lost,' Fell projected with a mockingly sympathetic tone. I gritted my teeth and straightened up as much as I could manage, glaring into the darkness with all the venom I could muster. 

"What do you want, Fell?" I ground out.

'To offer my assistance. Nothing more, nothing less,' he answered simply, somehow managing to sound innocent. I scowled at his response, lifting my chin defiantly. 

"Pass." 

There was a long pause. I could practically hear my heart pounding in my chest as the oppressive silence stretched on for at least a full minute.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist... Sean."

I whirled around to see the golden bastard himself calmly sauntering his way over from the other side of the roof. I almost started backing away as he steadily advanced before forcing myself to stand still, knowing that I had nowhere to go. I couldn't just smoke out again either, seeing as I didn't even know how the fuck I even managed it in the first place. To make things even worse, my lack of weapons and energy basically destroyed any chance I might have had at winning a fight.

With nothing left but my defiance, I stubbornly held my ground, squaring my shoulders and fixing the approaching Demon with an obstinate glare. I would die before giving that monster the satisfaction of seeing me cower.

 

He stopped about five feet from me, just close enough for me to see the slit pupils in his gleaming eyes. He lifted a hand to his chin, resting his elbow in his other hand. His expression was thoughtful, as if he were idly condidering something. After another half minute, I cracked. 

"What are you looking at?" I snapped angrily, "Am I really that pretty?" 

A slow smirk made its way onto his face in response as he cocked an eyebrow at me in an expression that was playful, but somehow cold and calculating at the same time. I stiffened as he began to move, stepping to the side to walk slowly around me. 

"Brave. I like that," he remarked pleasantly as he circled me. It was like he was appraising a damn show animal.

"Either tell me why you're here or kill me," I said flatly, "I'm done playing." 

"Hm." 

Fell stopped in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back. He cocked his head at me.

"You first, boy." 

"Excuse me?" 

"You first; Why are you here?" He clarified. My eyes narrowed at the question, hiding my confusion with anger. 

"...You already know," I shot back venomously. To my surprise, he nodded his head in agreement. 

"Yes. But that wasn't my question, Sean," he trailed off at the end of his sentence so that my name came out as an insidious hiss that made me cringe.

"I asked you why you were here. Do you know why?" He inquired conversationally. I stared for a second before dropping my eyes, unable to hold his gaze.

"....No," I muttered, my shoulders inadvertently drooping a bit to curl inward defensively. I mean, I knew what had led up to that moment, but the whole situation remained mostly a mystery.

"You're here because you were pushed here," he answered himself, "Weren't you?"

I was about to deny it, but then... I thought about it. 

I was pushed.

By Anti.

Anti's episode with Atticus on the roof, his suicide attempt, Anti trying to knock me out when he saw my shadows... 

No. It went farther back than that. I was doomed for the darkness from the moment he hijacked my body back in Virgil's dimension, trapping me within my own mind and torturing me mercilessly while he took his little joy ride. The resulting link between us had me rigged from the jump, whether it was intentional or not. It was his fault that I was there on that roof facing Fell alone, his fault that things had ended up this way. 

And Sheila... 

None of this would have come to pass if Anti had just walked away that night instead of breaking the God damn rules. If she hadn't died, I would've never become a hunter. I would be at home, cuddling with my wife and watching game of thrones. Felix, Mark and I would have gotten to live happy, clueless lives where the monsters stayed in story books where they belonged.

But no.

I was forced to wade through the darkness for years, waist deep in a bog of blood and tears and pain. I shot and hacked and stabbed away until I became so acclimated to it, so used to the violence and gore, that I couldn't feel a God damned thing when I hunted anymore. 

No fear.

No pain.

Just blood.

And you know what? I liked it. In some sick, twisted way, I loved every fucking second of my little escapades into the Night. I loved being able to feel nothing, to forget everything and just focus on the screams. So I just fell further and further, head first down the rabbit hole.

And now my journey into the shadows was finally complete. I was like him now. He was a virus, a sickness that had infected me, festering and evolving inside me all these years. He had followed me every step of the way, knocking me down peg by peg until I ended up here, on this roof, in the rain, with a twisted mind, a broken heart, and a dirty soul. 

It was all. His. Fault. 

"Sean..." Fell called softly, his tone almost gentle. My eyes flicked back to his before dropping to the ground again.

"Yes. I was," I whispered bitterly, gritting my teeth as I fought back the unwanted tears welling up in my eyes. 

I hated Anti. I hated him for taking sheila from me, hated him for torturing me and my friends, hated him for dragging me through the darkness for all those years.

I hated him for making me hate myself.

"And what would you like to do?" Fell asked, his voice still calm as ever. A jagged gash of blue lightning whipped across the sky, throwing everything into sharp relief for a single instant before the world returned to darkness.

"I... Want..." my hands curled into tight fists as rage began to build inside of me. I could almost feel my heart cracking in my chest, splintering that last piece of myself into a million pieces. 

Sean Mclaughlin was gone. It was over. The Darkness had won. There were no other paths to take. I lifted my head to meet Fell's eyes. 

"I want to make him suffer."

There was only one thing left for me now.

"I need to make him suffer!!" I snarled viciously, feeling the cold power of the shadows, my shadows, well up in my chest.

"Well well..." Fell chuckled, "Look at you; the little hunter has fangs."

"What?" I growled. I was so not in the mood to be teased. Fell just kept on grinning. 

"Look at yourself," he said simply. Following his directive, I looked down at my body and nearly fell over at the sight. 

Every inch of my skin was covered in black- tinged acid green flames that roared wildly around me, even through the pouring rain. I lifted my hands in front of my face, staring at them in awe. I felt the ecstacy, the thrill of the bottomless well of energy boiling inside of me; the power was like a drug, a high that I never wanted to come down from. 

"Ah, there he is," Fell chuckled softly, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

I nodded slowly, still enthralled by the hypnotic flames covering my hands. I barely even heard him through my trance. 

"Now think of what you could do with that power. Your potential is limitless, boy. More so than even Anti's." 

He stepped a bit closer, spoke a bit quieter. 

"Anything you desired, you could have," he spoke with his mind as well as with his words, "You can finally have what you want the most..."

I looked up from my hands then, my attention caught by the tempting words. 

"I want him to pay," I said flatly. Fell smirked, stepped back and extended a hand in invitation.

"I think that can be arranged. You have much to learn, Sean."

"Don't call me that!" I snapped, ignoring his hand and stalking around him to the edge of the building.

"I'm not Sean. Not anymore."

"Oh? And what would you have me call you?" Fell asked curiously. I shot him a smirk over my shoulder. 

"You know what? Call me Jack." 

With that, I surrendered the last of myself to the darkness, leaping off the building and dissolving into shadows. Fell laughed and did the same, following me into the night. 

 

The only thing left for me now was revenge.


	63. 63

Munich Rauthaus Dungeon:

"Wait, Alchemy? I thought that the Alchemists were a myth, though. A story," Amy protested in confusion, "The things they're supposed to be able to do..." she trailed off. 

"Those stories are all pretty crazy," Wiishu said over the sound of her clinking chains as she adjusted herself, "I think I heard someone say one time that the Alchemists were dragon riders."

"...well were they?" 

"Pff, no," Wiishu snorted, "no one controlled the Dragons. Point is, take those folk tales with a grain of salt."

"Allow me to separate fact from fiction then," Mikhail supplied.

"They are no myth, Amy. Though few in number, those that carry the burden of Abel's blood-" 

"I'm sorry, who?"

"The lesser known brother of Aaron. Now if you would-"

"Aaron as in... Anjali's Aaron?" Amy cut in again, much to Mikhail's derision.

"Just so," he confirmed curtly, "Now may I...?" 

"Oh. Sorry, go ahead." 

"Good. Now, Aaron and Abel were the first and most powerful humans that Anjali blessed with magic as a preemptive strike against Fell when she realized he was pursuing her. She had favored the humans long before she caught the beast's eye, so after discovering her love for Aaron, a human, giving them the means to defend themselves was the logical conclusion in her mind."

"Preeetty major no-no at the time," Wiishu added, "'specially seeing as humans were pretty much farm animal status."

"Her sacrifice had almost as much of an effect on her as it did the people she endeavoured to save," Mikhail murmured, more to himself than to his audience.

"I know that story already, we all do. Go back to Abel and the other humans," Amy prompted impatiently.

"Very well. Aaron pleaded for Anjali to bless his tribe with the same power she gave him so that they might have the means to defend themselves against the monsters of the old world. She of course agreed to do as her lover asked, starting with his younger brother, Abel. Abel was granted the same power as Aaron, while the rest of their tribe of over a hundred men-"

"And women."

"Signe! Oh, fine... while the rest of their tribe of men and women were blessed with a lesser form. The energy it would have taken Anjali to grant the same power to everyone would have killed her."

"Oh! I learned this at a solstice ceremony a couple years ago. All the humans had different reactions to the weaker spell, right?" Amy said brightly, proud to have some knowledge to offer.

"Indeed. A few ended up with some or all of what we know as third eye abilities like telepathy or telekinesis, and some, like Signe, were blessed with a knack for a special brand of power that can be channeled through different objects for different results, like the combinations of herbs used in hex bags and herbal jinxes."

"Yeah; then the humans took up arms, Fell killed Aaron while he and Anjali were on a recon mission, millenia wars, blah blah bloodshed blah blah. You know the rest." 

"Well yeah, that's pretty much common knowledge," the sprite dismissed, "But what about Abel? And the Alchemists? How did they-"

"I'm getting to that, be patient. After word of his brother's death reached him, Abel swore to bring Fell down. He went on to lead his small but powerful army in a fight for humanity's life that lasted nearly a thousand years. His children and his children's children led the charge generation after generation, waging war against the impossible odds.   
Later after the wars ended, the humans naturally split up into different tribes based on the powers they had; Those who possessed the most potent abilities formed the almost cult-like society of Witches. The less pretentious humans..." 

"Hey!" Came Wiishu's indignant protest, along with a small rock aimed through the darkness at the old Knight's head that he neatly dodged.

"...With only third eye abilities mingled with normal humans to form society as we know it today, with only a small gifted percentile. As far as written history goes, that's where it ends. But contrary to popular belief, there does exist a bloodline that is far more powerful than either of these: the descendents of Abel."

"The Alchemists," Amy breathed.

"Yes. Abel's descendants are both cursed and blessed with extraordinary abilities far beyond any other gifted mortal; the ability to adapt." 

"...I don't follow."

"Due to the diluted bloodlines and the inherent strengths limitations of the different species, Most humans and paranormals alike are confined to only one or two types of magic that come naturally to them. Even the extraordinary talent of the Witches is somewhat hindered by this fact. Though Other skills can be cultivated over time through rigorous training, true mastery can only be acheived for the few things that come naturally for the individual.  
We all have specialties, whether it's Defensive magic, offensive magic like jinxes, herbal jinxes and hexes, or healing magic. The majority of magic wielding  paranormals have a third eye, but the true power behind that ability lies with the humans and witches. Paranormals that specialize in dark magic are lost to the fairer arts like healing and human jinxes. Some paranormals can only wield one element, like you."

"Well yeah," Said Amy, "Kind of like how you and Wiishu have telepathy but not telekinesis, and Felix and Marzia don't have third eye abilities at all. And Mark can go on the offensive like a hound of hell, but he can't do herbal magic or use magical objects without help. But seriously, what about-"  

"An Alchemist, however," Mikhail continued, "has savant-like talents in every area. They can see it, Amy. They can hear it, feel it, percieve it in ways that no other being on this earth can."

"Percieve... what?"

"Magic. We can only use phrases, confined to a few choice words that make us just barely literate. But they... they speak the language. They've cracked the code, Amy, with an ease that even I envy. They picked apart every nook and facet of  magic's inner workings, tore it apart and puzzled it back together to create entirely new systems. An Alchemist is a master craftsmen, a jack of every Paranormal trade. Truly extraordinary."

"... yeah, I didn't get a lick of that. Not all of us speak shakespeare y'know," Amy quipped, drawing a giggle from Wiishu, "Layman's terms, Doctor Mickey. We've talked about this." 

"Thank your stars that I'm in shackles, you two. And your confusion is to be expected; I've never fully understood it myself, so a summary like this one likely doesn't even scratch the surface.  an Alchemist's power is intense and intricate, so much so that it can take even its practitioners by surprise."

"What do you mean?"

"The Alchemist's brand of magic can sometimes have a mind of its own, giving them random visions or overwhelming them with odd bursts of power every so often. They are often called mediums because of their habit of stumbling upon errant streams of energy and connecting with them against their will, following them back to the source. When this occurs, they are able to not only sense magic read thoughts like us; instead, they literally become one with the source, seeing through their eyes and thinking their thoughts whilst being virtually undetectable to the host. They can't control when and where this happens, so it often causes them pain.

"Okay, okay, enough on that. My brain hurts," Sighed Amy.

"Same," her friend agreed, "Listening to mikhail for this long tends to do that." 

"Likewise, Witch." 

"But I'm confused; if the Alchemists aren't a fairytale, why haven't they shown their faces? Are they hiding?" Asked Amy curiously.

"Right again. Abel's descendents have been persecuted for millennia, hunted out of fear for their superior power. I'm ashamed to say that most of the hunting was done by Witches and humans, Fratricide rather than genocide," Mikhail explained, finishing with a long sigh.

"Soooo," Sang Wiishu, "They went into hiding a couple centuries back, settling into their own little dark corner of the world."

"What a lovely way to describe America," Mikhail snarked.

"I know what I said. Anyway, the resistance has been keeping tabs on those guys for centuries. Only the High Council knows that they exist; if news got out, you can bet the hunt would be on again." 

"That's... terrible."

"That's the human race, my friend. When I say I wanna be human, I mean I want humanity real humanity. Not the mob mentality that ends up in holocausts and holy wars." 

A comfortable and slightly gloomy silence fell over their prison as the story came to a close, each cellmate retreating into their own musings. 

Then Amy had a thought.

"Wait. You said 'the boy is awake,' Who were you talking about? Who's this Oliver Saul?"

There was a long, thoughtful gap of quiet before the answer finally came.

"The key, Amy," Mikhail said softly. 

"The key to everything."


	64. 64

Anti's POV:

"It'll be okay kid," I promised as I hugged him tighter, "I won't leave again. Never again." 

Up until that moment, I had never made a promise in my entire life, had never pledged myself to anything but power. But damned if that wasn't the most fervent statement I'd ever made, spoken with such conviction that is sounded like I was going against God himself. Atticus pulled back after a moment to look straight into the new eyes that he had given me. 

"I swear the same, Antioch. No matter what happens," he swore. I gave him a sad smile.

"You really shouldn't, bud. If you were as smart as you talk, you'd be telling me to eat shit," I told him, trying for a joking tone and failing miserably. Atticus' brow furrowed as he narrowed his eyes in a glare. 

"Did you think something like this would scare me after all that I've been through?" He demanded angrily, "After all that we've been through? Did you really think that I would just leave?? You must not know me very well at all, Antioch."

My eyes widened at his statement and the fire he put behind it. This freaking kid....

"Alright," I nodded slowly, "It's a deal, Atticus Solomon." 

"That's Atticus Antioch Solomon to you," Atticus told me matter of factly as we finally stood.

"Wait... wh-what?" I stuttered in bewilderment. The kid just grinned up at me.

"That's my full chosen title: Atticus Antioch Solomon. We're family, Antioch. You're the first brother I've ever had," he smiled, "So for better or worse... your name is mine." 

I blinked once. Then twice. 

And then the waterworks started up for the second time that night.


	65. 65

Jericho's POV:

I had tears running down my face at the sight before me. Atticus wordlessly comforted Anti as the Demon cried, helpless against the flood of new emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. This was... amazing. I'd never sensed anything like it. The waves of energy rolling off of Anti were so pure and clear, like a newborn baby.

It was beautiful. 

"Oh Jesus- Sean!" Exclaimed Felix, suddenly remembering his missing friend. He, Mark, and Chica ran towards the door with every intention of scouring the city for them when they were stopped by Virgil's arm across the doorframe.

"What gives, Djinn?" Felix growled, fixing the purple boy with a glare that would send chills down anyone's spine, "Get the fuck out of the way. Now." 

"You're not gonna find him, dude," Virgil informed him flatly, "Your buddy doesn't wanna be found right now." 

"What are you saying?" Mark asked in confusion. 

"He... he cloaked himself. He's hiding," Virgo said softly, stepping up to her brother's side to fix the two distressed men with a mournful look. 

"I'm sorry, but Virgil's right; you won't find him unless he comes to you," she said sadly. Felix stepped back, shaking his head slowly. 

"No. No, you're wrong. Move out of the way!" Felix snarled, drawing his guns and aiming them just inches away from Virgil's face. The Djinn didn't so much as blink, staring blandly down the barrels of the weapons that could end him in an instant. 

"Felix..." Mark laid a gentle hand on his friends shoulder, "I think... I think he's telling the truth." 

Felix jerked his guns back and whirled around to face Mark, his face twisted in a heart wrenching mixture of hurt and anger.

"What the fuck, Mark! How could you even fucking say that?!" He yelled, his eyes briefly flashing yellow before reverting again. Chica whined as Mark hung his head defeatedly.

"'Cause I can feel it, man. He... Sean is gone. In those last seconds before he flew out the window, it was like he turned into someone else... something else. I don't think he's all there, man. I'm sorry." 

Felix's eyes widened in shock before his face settled into a stony glare. Underneath all of that though, his eyes dulled with resignation as he grasped the truth behind Mark's words.

"You know what? Fucking fine," he growled, "I'm out. Good night." 

With that, he shoved his guns into their sheaths and stalked out the door after Virgil moved out of the way without comment. Marzia shook her head and followed closely behind him as we stood silently in his wake, none of us knowing what to say.

"... I'm sorry." 

Anti's voice was small and broken, but clearly audible in the tense quiet. 

"It's okay, Anti. It's not your fault," I soothed, knowing that he'd been through enough strain for a couple lifetimes that night. I turned to glare at Virgil when he audibly scoffed.

"Care to share with the class?" I demanded icily. He rolled his eyes. 

"Not to rain on your parade of sunshine and roses, but where have you been? Literally everything that's happened in the past hour has been his fault!" He ranted, raising his fingers to tick them off.

"Atticus nearly died. Sean is awol. And now we've got this fucking curveball to deal with," he flung his hand toward Atticus, "and we don't even know what to do with it!"

Atticus stood up and slowly approached Virgil until he was glaring up at him from just inches away.

"If you have something you want to say to me, my friend, say it outright. Because it is standing right here," he said slowly.

Virgil blinked down at him for a moment before turning to walk out of the room without another word. Virgo shot us all an apologetic look before doing the same. 

"...Well," I sighed, "that was awkward."

Virgil's POV:

"What d'ya think happened back there, Gillie?" Asked Virgo. I glanced over my shoulder to see the only person in the world I would ever allow to call me by that name looking up at me with those wide, innocent eyes of hers. Not troubled, not scared; just thoughtful and curious. It was honestly crazy; Her heart and mind were still so pure, even after all those dark years of growing up with our pathetic excuse of a family... she truly was an anomaly among creatures like us. I sighed and turned away to open the door to the room I'd picked out for us. 

"I don't know, Virgo," I admitted as I held the door ajar for her to pass through, "All I know right now is that it's definitely not a good thing. For any of us." 

I expected her to start in with her usual childish whys and hows, but to my surprise, she recieved my answer with an uncharacteristically solemn silence. I threw my jacket and shoes to the other side of the room and sat on the bed with a grunt. 

"We'd better rest; it's been a hell of a day for both of us. Why don't you take first shower?" I offered. 

"Okee dokee!" 

I closed my eyes and let myself fall back on the bed as she began her nightly routine, letting my thoughts run their course under the sound of the shower water and her off-key humming.

I hadn't been lying about the dooming reality of the situation. Maybe I was being pessimistic, but let's be real here: a power like that kid had just displayed was rare, a nigh on impossible occurence as far as the Paranormal community was concerned. And if there was anything I had learned about those bastards is that the for the vast majority of them, power was the only thing that mattered. 

Exhibit A: me. 

When I ran away to escape all of that bullshit, no one had attempted to pursue me, not even my own family. They were happy to let Valentine inherit the throne instead... until they'd found out about my power. The only reason they'd yanked me back from the point of no return was because they wanted to use me. And now that Atticus, Sean, and Anti had awakened new abilities of their own... well. If the House found out about any of that, it would be the nails in our coffins. We would be targeted and hunted with the purpose of either capturing or killing us to erradicate the threat. 

I had a sneaking suspicion that that's what this was all about. This meeting wasn't to make peace and play nice; it was a scouting mission, a bid to see if we'd be useful or not. 

I sighed and rubbed my eyes wearily, trying to relax enough to enter the medatative state that Djinns substitute for sleep every couple days.

Tomorrow would end in blood. 

I was sure of it.


	66. 66

Anti's POV:

Fuck. My. Life. 

I honestly hated myself at that moment, because you know what? Virgil was right. It was my fault. Hurting Atticus, changing Sean... it was all me. And the worst part was that I knew that as long as I had emotions, this shit was only gonna get worse. 

God dammit.

"Listen, you seem like a good kid, so I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt," Mark said finally, ending the silence and bringing our attention back to him, "But seriously... what the hell was that back there, Atticus?" 

Mark's tone wasn't accusatory or angry, something I was extremely grateful for; the last thing the kid needed was more crap from people who didn't know a thing about him. But from the way Atticus' face fell, I don't think Mark's tone mattered very much. 

"Look dude, all due respect-" I began tiredly.

"Maybe you and Chica should go talk to Felix," Jericho cut in kindly, "You could calm him down a little." 

Mark hesitated, but fortunately took the hint, shutting the door behind him and his dog as they left. Jericho turned to us when he was gone, clearing some debris off the floor to sit in front of me. 

"Alright. What's up you two?" She asked in a light tone. I sighed as she and Atticus both waited for my answer. 

"Alright. But it'll take awhile to explain." 

Jericho smiled.

"I'm a good listener." 

In the room across the hall:

Felix was cleaning his guns on the bed while Marzia showered. He needed something to focus on, needed some way to keep his hands busy to distract him before he lost his temper. Even when he had erradicated every smudge and cleaned every nook and cranny, he took them apart and started up the process again. 

'Sean... what happened to you, man?' 

A knock on the door made him jump, startling him out of his gloom. The door opened before he had a chance to give his permission. 

"You know, I think that defeats the purpose of knocki- OOF! Chica! Jesus christ calm down!" Felix exclaimed as he was tackled and knocked flat onto the bed by a pile of golden fluff. He turned his face from side to side in an effort to dodge her tongue as she laughed. Luckily, she eventually stopped when he pushed her off, curling up and resting her head on his leg. 

"Sorry not sorry," she quipped happily as Felix fixed her with a scowl that he had to struggle to maintain. He turned back to his task, mouth twitching despite himself.

"We doing pop culture references now?" Felix asked dryly. 

"She learns quick," Mark said as he sat on the edge of the bed, "It's pretty crazy, actually." 

"Yup! I'm a smart pupper!" 

Felix huffed out a small laugh as he began putting the first gun back together. There were a couple seconds of silence before Mark spoke.

"Are you gonna be okay, dude?" He asked softly. His friend scoffed.

"Are you?" He shot back, sounding harsher than he intended. His friends took it in stride.

"No."

"But we will be after we find a way to save him," Mark finished for Chica. 

"Which we will. We're gonna find him, Felix. Promise," Chica swore determinedly, "They don't call me a retriever for nothing!"

"You get exactly one laugh for that joke. Ha," Felix said flatly, but smiled at their attempt to cheer him up. He finished the assembly and stood, dropping his prized weapons back into their holsters as he walked out the door.

"I'll take first watch. I still don't trust him," he said over his shoulder, knowing that it would be obvious which 'him' he was talking about.

Anti's POV: 

Jericho sat back and whistled lowly. 

"An Alchemist huh? They sound pretty overpowered," she commented, only half joking. I shrugged and nodded before glancing at Atticus to see how he was taking this information. He seemed fine... which of course meant that he wasn't. Nobody could find out something like this without being at least a little scarred. I hadn't gone over everything I knew, settling for a brief summary. But I'd certainly said enough in the last five minutes to turn his world upside down.

"Listen, Jericho... I think we should hit the sheets. The room next to this one open?" I asked, knowing Atticus probably wanted out. Jericho nodded and stood, motioning for us to follow her. She led us to the room, allowing us to enter before leaning on the doorframe.

"Anti... I don't know exactly what's going on with you. And I can't promise that this will get any better, either. But I just want you to know that you don't have to face anything alone anymore. You have him," she nodded towards atticus, "and now you have me." 

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Maybe there was hope for me after all; she certainly seemed to think so. With those last words, she gave a wave and walked away, shutting the door behind her. 

"...Antioch," Atticus said, bringing my attention back around to him.

"Yeah?" 

"How do you know so much about all of this? About the Alchemists?" He asked slowly. I averted my eyes, shaking my head. 

"... I learned from experience. The answer you're asking for is heavier than you know, kid," I sighed tiredly.

"There's some questions that I'm just not prepared to answer."


	67. 67

Antioch is pronounced an-tee-ock.   
Djinn is pronounced jin.   
Carry on.

Jericho's POV: 

"RISE AND SHINE, GEEK SQUAD! IT'S FOUR O' CLOCK, WE GOT SHIT TO DO!!" 

I jerked awake and sat up straight in bed, shocked out of sleep by Virgil's magically magnified voice blasting through the hallways. I clapped my hands over my ears and groaned as he sounded the alarm again:

"WAKEY WAKEY, DEATH AND BAK- OW!" 

There was a sudden scuffling sound accompanied by a few curses and grunts before a softer and much more pleasant timbre sounded:

"Heeeey guys, sorry about that," Virgo's disembodied voice chuckled, "Could you all gather in the lobby real quick? Um, thanks." 

With that, the building was silent except for the grunts and groans of my companions as they forced themselves back into the world of the living, so loud I could hear them through the walls. I heard Felix shout something from somewhere beyond the door that included the words 'purple emo' and 'murder.' I sighed and rolled out of bed, reaching for my clothes. This was going to be about as pleasant as a root canal. 

Ten minutes later:

"Alright, everyone here? Do we need to do a roll call? No? Good." Virgil groused when we sat in the lobby. I looked around to check, my mother hen instincts telling me I should probably do a head count anyway. 

'Marzia... Mark... Sean's gone... wait, where are-'

"Well I guess we don't count, huh?" Came Anti's snarky tone from off to the side. We all turned to see him and Atticus making their way into the seating area, both of them looking more than a little peeved. 

"Exactly! Glad we understand each other," Virgil agreed. I winced at his distant and scathing tone. Virgo seemed to wilt a little, as if physically affected by her brother's foul mood.

"Virgil..." I began warningly as Anti and Atticus both stiffened. Anti's new aura began to brighten in agitation, but I had the feeling it was unintentional. 

"What? He's right, you know," Felix supplied coolly. This time, Mark was the one to step in.

"Felix. Stop. You're not helping," he snapped. Felix just scowled and sunk into his chair, not bothering to respond. Mark sighed and put a hand to his forehead in exhasperation. 

"Marzia, can't you talk some sense into this idiot?"

"Hey!!" Felix shouted indignantly. Marzia automatically tensed as the question brought the attention of the room onto her. 

"I personally couldn't care less whether they stay or go," Marzia said stiffly, "But I will stand with Felix and trust his instincts."

I was about to protest, but was shocked into silence by the last person I would have expected to intercede:

"ENOUGH!!"

All of us turned to Chica in surprise; The normally sweet and good natured dog was growling lowly in a way that she usually reserved for battle, her golden hackles raised and teeth bared as her eyes flashed threateningly. Even Mark stepped back warily at the sight of his best friend in such a state.

"You idiots are acting like children! And the fact that this is coming from a dog says a lot." 

Chica snarled and shook her head before continuing. "I couldn't understand English until three weeks ago. But three weeks was all it took for me to be disgusted with the way you guys choose to use it." 

"Chica..." Mark whispered.

"Lemme finish, Mark. I've been wanting to say this for awhile," Chica huffed, placing a paw on his leg in a very human gesture that reminded me just how intelligent she was. 

"I didn't understand it before, didn't understand the process. Do you guys realize how incredible language is? It's amazing. 

"Countless combinations of otherwise meaningless sounds come together to create thousands of words with a thousand uses each. I've seen everything in Mark's mind. I've seen everything he's seen and know everything he's heard and read like the memories are my own.

"You can use words for beautiful things; You can write timeless stories about a 'boy who lived' and saved the world with a magic wand and an invisibility cloak. You can use your words to write a love song or wedding vow, or to write poems about ravens who knock on doors at night. You can use them to to make an inspiring speech about a world-changing dream, and then write about how the dream of that one man went down in history and changed the world forever. There are infinite possibilities. infinite!! And you...

She turned to felix and approached him slowly, anger in her eyes like I'd never seen. Felix got up out of his chair and stumbled backwards, retreating warily. 

"You, a friend of my best friend. You, a man that I admired even when I couldn't understand him... 

Felix's back reached the wall. Chica jumped up and put her paws on his chest with a threatening growl. 

"You use your words to hurt a boy you know nothing about, and chastise a man who changed his stripes for the better. Look at him, Felix! He's good. They are good! Can't you see that? Can't you sense it?!"

All eyes in the room turned to stare at the two in question. 

Atticus was holding Anti's hand. 

"Virgil and Marzia, this goes for you too," Chica continued after pausing long enough for her words to sink in. The Djinn tensed up, but for the first time since I'd known him, said nothing in his defense. Chica removed her paws from Felix and walked back over to Mark, drawing a sigh of relief from Felix. She sat tall beside her best friend and fixed them all with the sternest expression I had ever seen from a dog. 

"I want you three to ask yourselves a question. When people talk about you, when they write about you... what words do you want them to use? What kind of story do you want yours to be?" 

With that final blow to their consciences, she fell silent. Mark got up and sat on the floor beside her and began running his fingers through her fur as she turned away from her audience dismissively, curling up to lay her head on his leg. Felix, Marzia, and Virgil were all looking at the floor, shame written all over each of their faces. After nearly a minute of complete silence, Virgo cleared her throat. 

"Um, well anyway," she said slowly, "Virgil and I have something to show you all."


	68. 68

Third Person: 

"Well um... Anyway, Virgil and I have something to show you," she announced, noticeably perking up a little as she spoke. She turned around and walked behind the sofa that she and Virgil were standing in front of and bent to pick something up before holding up her surprise for all of us to see: 

 

"Woah... Virgo, that's beautiful!!" Jericho exclaimed, awed by the gorgeous dress that the Djinn was proudly displaying.

"I know," Virgo said smugly before bounding over to lay the dress across Jericho's lap. 

"And it's for you!" She bubbled with a giddy smile, bright as ever. Jericho's jaw dropped, but no words came out. 

"Speechless, I know. I'll take your silence as a testament to your unending gratitude," Virgil said dryly, "And lucky for you..." he followed his sister's lead and held up another dress in one hand, and a three piece suit in the other.   
"Virgo insisted we make one for all of you." 

Five minutes later, they were all prettied up and ready for the ball.

"We can give our absent party members their clothes when we get there," Virgil assured me before I could ask.

"Jesus, dude!" Felix laughed, looking down at himself. Virgil smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"You like?" He asked smugly. Felix just laughed again. 

"Fuck yeah, I like! Damn I look good!" He exclaimed before turning around to look for his girlfriend. 

"Marzia! Hey Marzia, check out this..." he trailed off into silence. Everyone in the room turned to look as Marzia slowly walked out of the hallway, jaws dropping as they took her in. 

"M-Marzia..." Felix whispered hoarsely before clearing his throat and speaking a little clearer, "Marzia, you look-" 

"Girly. I know," The warrior interrupted with a scowl, narrowing her eyes at Felix as if daring him to mock her. Felix shook his head slowly and walked across the room to stand before her. Marzia tilted her head in confusion, feeling a little self concious with Felix focusing so intently on her. 

"What-" she began, but was cut off by Felix's lips against hers in a short, sweet kiss. He pulled back after a moment to stare into her eyes. 

"I was going to say beautiful," he murmured softly. Marzia's eyes widened as she blushed a deep scarlet red. There were a few chuckles from the group when she yanked his head back down to hers for another kiss. 

The laughter stopped abruptly when another voice made its presence known: 

"How touching."


	69. 69

Jericho's POV:

"How touching."

All eyes flew to the entrance of the lobby to see what I now recognized as a Vampire boy standing beside what looked like a very short old man with black skin and White hair.

 

 

The old man was no more than four feet tall, even shorter than the Vampire, who appeared to be no older than Atticus. Everyone in the room stood up with weapons in hand, ready for a fight; no matter how unthreatening the two newcomers looked, we all knew better than to judge any Paranormal by their appearance.

"Touching?" Scoffed the Vampire. He crossed his arms as he surveyed us with a proud sneer on his young face.  
"Touching isn't the word I would use, Kylus."

I instantly disliked him.

The old man chuckled, but didn't respond. The two of them fell silent, seemingly waiting for something. Feeling too tense to sit there and do nothing, I stepped forward to the front of the group.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" I demanded, squaring my shoulders confidently. The Vampire smirked.

"It's talking, Kylus! Should we say something?" He snickered. Kylus' lips stretched into a thin line of disgust at the suggestion.

"I don't generally converse with insects, Lord Nikolai," he stated coldly. I felt my glare darken as the atmosphere in the room became even more tense.

"True, my friend. Very true," The Vampire called Nikolai agreed amicably. I was about to make a retort when I was interupted by a small whisper from the back of the group that rang clear in the deafening silence.

"Antioch, their lights... their lights are..." whispered Atticus hoarsely. Nikolai's head snapped in his direction, making the boy flinch instinctively. There was a blur of motion and a small gust of wind before the Vampire appeared before them, too suddenly for them to react in time. He leaned in, inches from Atticus' face. Everyone in the room stiffened, unsure whether to attack.

"And who have we here, Antioch?" He asked, his face and tone dripping with malevolent curiosity. Anti yanked Atticus behind him and conjured his sword, drawing the Vampire's attention away from the boy.

"None of your god damn business, blood sucker," He snarled, his eyes flashing with an acid green light. What had happened to the blue we'd seen just minutes before...?

"Oh, touchy. Keeping pets now, are we?" Nikolai sneered, but backed off and appeared back at Kylus' side.  
"Have it your way, Demon."

"Stand down, Lord Nikolai," came a serene, almost melodic voice from behind them.  
"They have no quarrel with you yet."

A vaguely familiar looking woman strode past the other two Paranormals to stand before us. She was taller than the other two at a couple inches under six feet, and exuded an aura of effortless grace. 

 

Virgo let out a happy squeal and began to run towards the woman, but was brought to a halt by Virgil's hand on her shoulder. Virgo growled and pouted at her brother, still looking adorable even through her anger.

"But it's Valentine!" She protested, stamping her foot like a child. Virgil didn't let up, tightening his grip on her arm until she stopped trying to get away and stood sullenly still. 

"Hello, sister," Virgil said coolly, his face neutral. 

"Brother," The woman called Valentine acknowledged with a nod, "It's been too long." 

"Not long enough as far as I'm concerned," Virgil scoffed, "you're one cold bitch, Val." 

"Virgil!" Virgo shouted indignantly. Virgil ignored her, locked in a staring contest with his expressionless sibling. 

Finally, her companions had had enough.

"Oh for the love of- Valentine, if we don't get moving soon, I'll be forced to take action myself," growled Nicolai, baring his sharp white teeth.  
"And you of all people should know how unpleasant that can be..." he trailed off ominously, letting his threat hang in the air. Valentine examined her brother for a few moments more before turning and heading to the entrance.

"Very well. Come, Outsiders; we've been tasked with escorting you to the ball." 

 

*********

 

Atticus' POV:

For the majority of the walk, it walk was completely quiet. I'd never truly witnessed deafening silence before beyond the common idiom, but I was sure that this was the definition.

All eyes were on the three new Paranormals leading the group.  We all kept a good distance for obvious reasons. 

"Antioch," I whispered, unable to hold my silence any longer, "who are these people?" 

'Probably not the best idea to be speaking aloud, kid. Saint Nick over there is a Vampire, so he can hear you loud and clear,' Antioch sent back, giving no outward indication that he'd heard me. I looked at 'lord Nikolai,' who had his head tilted to the side as if listening intently. 

'I see.'

'Yeah. Real pain in the ass, especially at social events. They can't read minds, but they can hear everything in the room,' Antioch grumbled.

'But who are they? Are they with the House?' I asked again. 

'Yeah. The evil hobbit over there is a Dark Elf, or an Unseelie. Kylus, the Canadian Elf King."

'Pip squeak's name is Nickolai, the Vampire Lord. Don't let his looks fool you; he's a class A prick.'

'And the purple ice queen is none other than Princess Valentine Sanders, daughter of the Djinn King and apparently Virgil's own sister.' 

'Wait,' I interrupted, 'how could you not have known that he was royalty?'

'Okay, one, I don't keep up with that political shit. Too much drama. Two, that info was kept pretty well under wraps, very hush-hush. The word was that the Djinn Prince died fifty years ago, and seeing as the Djinn House didn't bother to comment in all this time, everyone just assumed it was true. Dark must have known though, seeing as he was the Demon king before Azazel. He would have met Virgil before he disappeared.'

'What happened?' I asked curiously.

'Dunno. All I know is that Virgil's gonna make one hell of a splash tonight after being gone so long. What were you saying about their lights earlier?'

Virgil's POV:

'...Valentine? Virgil?' 

I sighed as Virgo established an unwanted link between her, valentine, and I. 'Virgo, if this three way is your attempt at trying to bring the fam back together or whatever, you can cut that shit right now. You're the only one in this family I can tolerate, including myself.'

'Come on Gillie, hear me out-'

'Language, brother," Valentine cut in, ' And I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from calling this a... threesome.' 

'I couldn't give any less shits about what you would greatly appreciate,' I shot back snarkily, placing two mental air quotes around my last two words. 

'Can't we all just get along?'

The three of us fell silent at the unexpected interuption. I cursed and did my best to wrestle the idiot back down, hoping that my sisters didn't realize the source of the voice. Why couldn't he just leave me the fuck alone?!

'Gillie? What was that?'

Shit. 

'What are you talking about?' I asked, keeping my tone casual. There was a longer pause. The link was saturated with Suspicion and puzzlement in equal measure.

Shit, shit, shit.

'So that is why our father and Violet sought you out so desperately,' Valentine said finally. My blood ran cold. 

'Valentine, if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your damn trap shut,' I snarled. I mentally slapped Virgo's mute button before she could pry.

'Hm. As you wish, Virgil. In any case..'

"We have arrived," she said aloud.

 

Signe's POV:

"...What time do you think it is?" I asked. We'd been silent for hours upon hours, taking turns napping while the other two stayed alert. I had braided and unbraided and rebraided my hair at least twenty times in every style I knew just to pass the time; anymore and my gorgeous mane would start falling out. 

"I haven't an earthly, Signe," Mikhail sighed, clearly cranky. I could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in my mind's eye.   
"What I do know is that my meditation was interrupted. By you. Again." 

"Ugh, don't be such a sour puss, Mick," I snarked, earning a growl from Mikhail. I knew I sounded childish, but that was nothing new. Growing up is overrated.

"You know, Mikhail has the right Idea. Meditating really makes the time fly quicker," Amy supplied helpfully.

"Psh. Booooriiiing," I drawled, "let's play a game!"

"Ah yes, a wonderful idea. The quiet game is one of my favorites," said Mikhail, a small smirk in his voice. I pouted. 

"But I'm bad at that one!" I protested, drawing a snort from Amy.

"Then it will be a good challenge for you," Mikhail said blandly. "Ready? Go." 

Ten seconds passed. 

"I lose! Told you I was bad at it," I said smugly, grinning at Mikhail's groan and Amy's suppressed giggle.

"Is it your singular goal in life to torment me, Witch?" 

"Nah," I responded, "Just to entertain myself. Let's play twenty questions!" 

"Signe..." 

Whatever the old man was about to gripe at me was cut off when the door to our cell creaked open a couple inches, shooting a beam of bright light straight into my face. I squinted hard as the light grew slowly until the door was opened all the way, revealing a slender silhouette. None of us said anything for about a minute, staring down the mysterious figure as our eyes adjusted. 

"Um... hey, Sig. Long time no see, I guess," the stranger that I now knew was a woman chuckled nervously. I squinted harder.

"Do I know you?" I asked suspiciously. I didn't recognize her voice at all. 

"Oh. I guess I've changed a bit," the woman said sheepishly. I cocked my head at her as my eyes adjusted fully. My eyes widened. 

"Yeah, I guess you have... Celine."

 


	70. 70

Signe's POV:

"I guess you have... Celine." 

"Woah woah woah wait. Hold up," Amy cut in, holding up her hands in a 'time out' sign, "Celine as in the Celine? Your cousin Celine?

"Well, second cousin," I specified,  "but yeah. It's good to see you, Leenie! What are you doing in Munich?"  I asked. 

"Okay, don't freak out, but..." Celine took a deep breath.   
"I'm the new heir of the Raven Coven." 

"What?! Omigosh that's great, Leenie!!" I squeeled, leaping to my feet despite my hunger and nausea, "You're gonna do great! And you can end the war with the Unseelie, just like we always wanted!"   
I was ecstatic; Celine and I had been besties from pretty early on, both sharing the same peaceful  views and agreeing that it was time for a change. With her in power, the Raven Coven of Britain might actually-

...Wait.  

"What about your mom, my cousin Ames? Wouldn't she be next in line as Aoife's neice?" I asked in confusion. Celine looked down. 

"Um... the war..." she began quietly. I waved a hand through the air, stopping her. 

"It's cool, I got it. I'm so sorry, Celine," I offered sympathetically. My old friend nodded, accepting my condolences silently. I had never liked my cousin Ames; she was too much like my mom and uncle Shamus for my taste. But I did care for Celine. 

"So! What brings you to our humble abode?" I asked peppily, eager to change the subject. Celine perked up, looking noticeably relieved. 

"I came to take you to the gathering. I actually volunteered cause I wanted a chance to see you beforehand. I'm so sorry you had to stay in the dungeon, but they wouldn't let me get you out," she finished sheepishly.

"It's whatever, we've all had worse. You guys ready?" I asked, turning back to Mikhail and Amy to see them both standing. 

"As if I would say no to the chance of shirking these petty chains," confirmed Mikhail dryly, holding out his shackled arms.   
"Shall we?"


	71. 71

Jericho's POV:

"We've arrived," Valentine announced. We were in front of a gorgeous victorianesque gothic structure that towered majestically above the rest of the street. I repressed a shudder; as stunning as the majestic architecture was, knowing what awaited us inside made its looming beauty seem sinister. 

 

Kylus and Nikolai went right ahead into the Rathaus as a set of tall, intricately decorated double doors were opened by two small children that couldn't be anything other than vampires. Valentine turned back to face us when she reached the entrance. 

"Outsiders," she addressed us, formal as ever, "You may have a few moments to prepare yourselves before entering. You need not discard your weapons upon arrival. I bid you good luck." 

With a final gracious bow of her head, she turned and disappeared through the doors. Virgo ducked her head and slipped through behind her; I guess despite everything, she was still a member of the Djinn House.  
The Vampires, a cherubic blond boy and a little blonde girl, grinned back at us before stepping back and letting the doors shut.

I couldn't repress my shudder this time.

"Ugh..." Felix said, "I've always hated creepy kids in video games, but seeing them in real life..." he shivered. 

"Alright, now that," Virgil pointed to Felix, "is a perfect example of what not to say in there. Dumbass comments like that are what get dumbasses dumb enough to say them killed." 

"Man, I must have Alzheimer's, 'cause I really don't remember asking for your opinion," Felix shot back moodily. 

"It's not an opinion. It's fact," Anti cut in, "These guys are royalty, kings and queens that represent entire races. Our goal here above all else is to get on their good side and avoid being smited." 

"Smote," corrected Atticus.

"...Yeah. That. Anyway, whatever you do, don't insult them, and don't make them think that you're a threat. Do what they say, refer to them by their titles only, and respond in the most polite and formal way possible. Do that, and we might get out of this alive. Got it?" Demanded Anti sternly. When we all nodded, he turned to face the door. 

"Alright, Prince charming," he said, jerking his head towards a scowling Virgil, "Lead the way." 

Virgil sighed deeply and stepped up to the doors. He didn't have to knock before the doors slid open wide, revealing the two Vampire children once again.

"Hey, Lilah. Sup Leo," greeted Virgil. Funny how the whole 'polite as possible' thing didn't apply to him, but I was willing to bet that if he was known around here, they probably expected it. The children smiled sweetly. At least, it would have been sweet if not for the fangs. 

"Greetings, Outsiders."   
"Guten tag."   
"Invitation please." 

They spoke in turn, following each other rapidly without missing a beat. It was unsettling.  
Virgil reached into his pocket and procured a crumpled ball of paper that he then dropped into Leo's hand. The two children giggled, deepening Virgil's frown. 

"Thank you, sir."   
"Right this way."  
"Your table is prepared for you." 

They stepped aside to their respective doors and bowed, prompting us to enter. Virgil led the way as the rest of us cautiously followed, scanning our surroundings warily. 

 

"Enjoy your stay, outsiders," the Vampires hissed in unison from behind us. When we turned around... they were gone. 

"Don't get freaked out by those two," Virgil said blandly, "They're messing with you; they just like to creep people out."

That didn't really reassure me.

Felix, Marzia, Anti, Atticus, Mark, Chica and I trailed after Virgil as he skulked through the long, ornate hallway. Even from the back, he looked infinitely more miserable than his usual moody self, something I hadn't thought possible.   
After about a minute in the silent, echoing hallway, we reached an even bigger set of doors. Virgil glanced over his shoulder at our grim faces. 

"I'd ask if you were ready, but it doesn't really matter. All I'm going to say is tread lightly." 

With that...

The doors swung open.

 

 

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m


	72. 72

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Jericho's POV:

The scene before us was quite possibly the strangest possibly the strangest I had ever seen. We were standing in the middle of a stunningly furnished dome of palatial proportions. It reminded me of the gorgeous ballrooms that I'd seen in fairytale books as a kid, the kind of place you only dreamed of visiting. The space was spacious enough for a second story banister to stretch around the room above us. The banister held twenty large thrones of varying shapes and materials. Each one was large and menacing, and I suspected that it was intended to be that way. 

 

(A/N: this is not the courthouse; it's just an example of the style that I'm describing.)

But none of that, as incredible as it appeared, was what made the sight so frighteningly strange. 

An ecclectic assortment of creatures sat on the thrones with appearances ranging from terrifying to beautiful. I could identify a few of the alien creatures like the dark elves, vampires, and Djinn, but most of them were species I had never encountered before. There were even a few animals staring down at us from their seats, each one larger than I'd ever seen.

There were tables set up across the floor, each one decorated with the precision and delicacy that one only saw at the finest restaurants. There were more creatures sitting, standing at the normal tables, while others lounged comfortably alongside the spreads on the floor. I gulped at the sight of a long table across the room that held a variety of grotesque platters of bones, thick liquids, and... organs. 

Oh God.

"Remember," Anti projected, as whispers and mutters from the surrounding Paranormals filled the room, "Be polite. And make a good impression."

We silently trailed behind the Vampire twins as they lead us to the center of the room to a large wooden box structure that looked like the place where the jury sat in court houses. We filed in and sat down under the watchful eye of every being in the room. I'd never been so nervous in my life. 

I glanced worriedly at the four empty seats in the 'jury box.' I felt restless; where was Dark? And Mikhail and the others?

"Welcome, one and all!" Came a booming voice from above, making me jump. I looked up to see a man standing front and center on the balcony in front of a posh, gothic looking purple throne. 

"Who is that?" I projected to my friends. 

"Oh, the dick up front? That's-" Virgil began. 

"My name is King Allistair Kane of the Djinn House. I will be standing in for the recently late Azazel as Host for this year's event," the man announced. There was polite applause, hisses, huffs, and growls from the rest of the room.

"My dad," Virgil finished sourly.

"Jericho!" 

My heart skipped a beat. That voice... that beautiful, beautiful voice...

I stood and turned slowly to see Dark grinning at me from an entrance across the room. I vaulted over the outside of the seating area and rushed to him without thinking, dodging through the Paranormals spread around the room. Dark opened his arms and curled them around me as I crashed into his chest, laughing ecsatically as I crushed him in the biggest, tightest hug I'd ever given him. He laughed and nuzzled his face into my hair.

"Oh, my love..." he said softly, "I've missed you, Jericho. So, so much."

"You too," I whispered, my voice muffled against his chest. After that, we didn't need anymore words besides the unspoken 'I love you' that flowed between us. We were together. It would be okay.

"Awwwwww!!" Came a happy squeal that I immediately recognized. Wiishu, who I hadn't even noticed enter the room, tackled Dark and I into a big bear hug of her own.   
"You guys are so cute!" She giggled. Dark rolled his eyes as he pried himself away from the Witch's vice-like arms.

"Good to see you again as well, Signe," he said dryly. Wiishu grinned and threw an arm over my shoulder. 

"Party pooper. Jericho missed me though! Right Jay?" She prompted, drawing a smile from me. 

"Yep," I laughed before going around her to hug Amy, who had a grin just as big on her face. I turned around when I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

"We'd better get back to the rest of our group," said Mikhail, looking grim as always despite our reunion, "this is no time to cause a scene, I'm afraid." 

As much of a grouch as he was, mikhail was right as always. Reminded of our situation, I calmed down and took Dark's hand to lead him back to our seats. The others followed behind as we carefully picked our way through the staring crowd. 

"Good luck Signe," said a woman that had walked in behind them before turning and sitting at a table of dark elves fifteen feet away. Two large birds- ravens, I think- flew down from somewhere near the ceiling to perch on her shoulders. One of them was a normal blue-tinted black while the other one appeared to be an albino, with snow white feathers and deep red eyes. Was it just me, or did they look angry?

"That's Celine," Signe explained as we walked, "She's family, so we go way back. Those birds are Ari and Ato, her familiars." 

Oh. 

"Oh! Everyone looks so pretty! Didja miss me?" Signe asked brightly as she plopped into her seat. 

"We're just glad you're all safe," said Mark as he hugged Amy tightly. 

"I'm gonna say sure to protect your delicate emotions," Virgil said dryly before anyone else could answer, "But in any case, we come bearing gifts." 

He snapped his fingers. As simple and sudden as that, Mikhail, Amy, Signe and Dark were dressed in the finery that Virgil and Virgo had displayed not too long ago. 

"Oh. My. God," Amy said as she gawked down at the deep wine red dress she was wearing. Mark quickly picked his jaw up off the ground. 

I'm not ashamed to say that I had to do the same; Jesus could Dark wear that suit. 

"I believe we have wasted enough time on trivialities," Allistair interrupted.   
"Let us begin the trial."


	73. 73

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Third person POV: 

"Let the trial commence," Allistair said grandly. "My daughter and heir, Princess Valentine Sanders of the Djinn House, shall announce the Manifest."

Valentine stepped out from behind the Djinn King's lofty throne, looking as regal and poised as ever. Head held high, she began to speak, motioning to each of the seats on the banister as she addressed the house members.

"Of the Unseelie Elves:

Abbadon Orusula of The Arrow clan.

 

Kylus Darkling of the Night Clan.

 

Nyx Morriah of the Gloaming Clan.

 

Of the Witch covens:

The Morrigan of the British Isles, Aoife hansen of the Raven Coven and her heir, Celine.

 

The Priestess of South america, Hecate nox of the Desert Sun Coven.

 

The Shaman of the African continent, Ashanti of the Blood Coven.

 

The BellaDonna of Europe, Zanna Bianchi of the Hecate Coven and her heir, Rowena Macleod.

 

 

Of the Lovely Naga: 

Queen Euryale of the Himalayan Mountains.

 

Queen stheno of the Himalayan mountains.

 

Of the esteemed Djinn: 

Alistair Kain of the Djinn house and his heir, Valentine Sanders.

 

Of the Graceful saltwater Zoras:

Southern Salt water Zora representative, Queen Ruto of the Caribbean ocean.

 

Northern salt water Zora representative, King Adlartok of the Arctic oceans.

 

Of the Mighty shifters: 

King of beasts, Chirombo of the Somalian plains.

 

Queen of the Arachnids, Gohma of death valley.

 

King of hissers, Orochimaru of Japan.

 

Queen of the air, Nimbus of the eastern skies.

 

Of the Ferocious Vampires:

Vampire Lord Nicolai and Dhampir Lady Lillith. 

 

 

Felix's POV:

"Let the House Gathering commence," announced Allistair as we struggled to take in all the names and faces. There was no God damn way I was gonna remember them all...  
"Any house lords or ladies that wish to speak may do so now." 

There was a moment of tense silence. The assorted Paranormals gazed menacingly down at us from their seats above. It was incredibly unnerving, and I got the feeling that it was set up to be that way. 

"Outsiders." 

All of us turned our heads expectantly towards Lillith's melodic soprano tone. I knew her, at least; the others had told me enough bad things about her for me to know that she was a world class bitch.

"As you are most likely aware, the sole purpose of your presence at this gathering is for us to decide whether or not you are a threat to our survival. If I may-" 

"Wait, Mother. I recognize this one..." cut in another high pitched voice excitedly, "this is the vessel of Fell 'iikh, the one known as pewdiepie! Pewdiepie of the human's internet!" 

Oh. It was the Vamp girl we'd seen at the door. She was sitting at a table about ten feet away. I cleared my throat awkwardly, wincing as every set of eyes in the room turned to me. 

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, that's me. How did you know? Do you... wait, you don't watch my videos, do you?" I asked. I'd seen that awed, sparkly eyed look before from my fans at paxcon.

"I... I have seen some," she said, suddenly looking a little defensive. The other vamp beside her rolled his eyes and smirked.

"She watches them day in and out," he said. The girl recoiled and glared at him. 

"I do not!"

Oh yes she did. 

"Wow. I uh... I didn't know I had a Vampire fan," I said slowly. I kind of couldn't believe it.   
"That's pretty cool actually."

The Vamp girl turned back to me, eyes shining again. "Truly? You think it so?" She asked shyly.

"Well yeah, of course lady... uh..." I began to say her name before realizing I couldn't remember it. Awkward. 

"Lilah. Lady Lilah," she confirmed, not looking looking offended in the least. 

"Right, lady Lilah. I haven't met a fan in awhile; with everything that's happening, I almost forgot..." I trailed off. Oh man... It was true; With all of the shit we'd been through, I'd honestly forgotten about the life I had before this, about what I loved to do. My chest clenched, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. Damn. Right in the feels.

"It... it means more than you know, especially now," I continued. Remembering that I had to make a good impression, I had a sudden stroke of genius. I bent down and unclipped my dagger from the ankle band that concealed it.

"Actually, here; take this,"  I said, holding it out. She was by my side in an instant, looking eagerly at whatever I had for her. 

"What is this?" She asked as she gingerly took it from my hands to examine it. 

"It's a souvenir," I explained,  "Sometimes we give away stuff to fans we really like, so they have a memento." 

This sent murmurs through the court above. I hoped they were saying good things.

"You... like me?" She asked slowly. "Why?"

"It's just... I guess you reminded me about what I've got going for me. I appreciate that, no matter what race you are," I told her  honestly. The chatter from above increased slightly.

"I see," said Lilah, looking more than a little proud. "This is my gift to you in return, then." 

And then, to my shock, Lady Lilah reach up, took hold of one of her fangs...

And yanked it out of her mouth. 

"Holy- what are you doing?!" I exclaimed, recoiling. There were gasps of shock from the Paranormals above, accompanied by mutters of disapproval. Blood dripped down Lilah's chin as she  grinned and held the bloody tooth towards me. It was a little under two inches long, slender and wickedly sharp. 

"Woah," whispered Mark.

"I, uh... I-I can't..." I stuttered weakly. Lilah tilted her head in confusion. 

"Shut it, you idiot! Just freaking take it!" Came Anti's irritated hiss in my head. "You're doing good, Don't ruin this!"

Right. Right, okay. 

I took a deep breath and held out my hand. Lilah beamed and dropped the bloodly fang into my waiting palm.  
"Please present this to the next Vampires who confront you. It doesn't apply to royalty, of course, but any other Vampire will recognize my offering and leave you be," she explained proudly. Suddenly understanding the enormity of the gift she had just granted me, I smiled gratefully and slipped it in my breast pocket. I bowed low, figuring that it was the right thing to do.  

"Thank you, Lady Lilah," I said fervently. Dang; who knew Vamps could be nice?

"I shall treasure your gift as well,  Pewdiepie. Many thanks," she said with a grin that displayed the gap in her mouth. 

"Felix. And sure, anytime. But um... are you gonna be okay without it?" I asked. Not that I didn't appreciate what she'd done, but I kind of felt bad.

"Please, fear not; my fang will grow back," she reassured me. 

With that, she turned and flashed back to her table, smirking smugly as her brother glowered at her. 

"Everybody take a leaf out of Felix's book," Virgil projected to us, "we just gained a valuable ally."

"If we are done pestering our guests..."  Nicolai spoke up, shooting a disaproving glare at Lilah before turning his attention back to me, "You are the vessel of the infamous Fell 'iikh, correct? Is it true that you are a Seether?"

I hesitated before answering. "Well I guess there's no point in hiding it..." 

The house's interest was suddenly piqued. Oh boy.

"Extraordinary... And how did you come to travel with the outsiders?" The Elf inquired curiously. I mulled over my answer; once again, I couldn't see any reason to hide that information.

"Well we weren't dragged into it or anything. Mark and I just kind of wanted to help. Our friend Sean was in trouble-" I began.

"Sean McLaughlin? The hunter?" Asked another Dark Elf woman sitting beside Kylus.

"Yeah, that's him. You know him?" Mark asked.  

"All too well."  

"And who is this Mark?" Asked the  giant spider we'd seen earlier. I couldn't remember what its name was... Ghona? Maybe Ghora?

"Oh. That's me," Mark spoke again.

Mark's POV:

"And who is this Mark?" Asked the giant spider, speaking up for the first time. Hearing its voice was weird; It was really slow, halting and slightly gravely with a lilting rattle that made it impossible to tell whether it was a male or female.

"Oh. That's me," I said, raising my hand in a sheepish little wave. Crap. now they were all looking at me.

"Ah yes, the mighty Evoker we've heard so much about," said the spider.   
"It's plain to see that you are the vessel of the Blood King. How strange it is that you travel together."

"Well he's actually a pretty decent  dude for a Demon," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly, "I mean, he can be scary, but I'm glad to have him on our side. He's certainly saved our butts more than once." 

"So we've heard. Stranger still how so many different kinds can coexist; an evoker, a seether, a knight, an elite. A Witch, a Djinn,  a Demon and his Druid bound... and what's this? Have you a Fur Shifter in your party as well?" The Spider asked curiously. I looked closely at it as it spoke, wondering how it was forming words without a mouth. It was standing up on its back four legs while it used the other four to stroke, pluck, and tap at its abdomen and face in rapid patterns that didn't make a lick of sense. Was it using those sounds to speak? How was that possible?

"Not so, Queen Ghoma," came a low, growling tone that immediately filled the room. I had to do a double take when I realized that the voice was coming from the huge lion sitting beside her.   
"The scent of this creature is strange and unfamiliar to me; she is not is not of my kingdom," the beast continued.

"Well you smell funny too!" Chica shot back indignantly. The room fell into a shocked silence as all the Paranormals recoiled in shock.

"What? What did I say?"

"I don't think it's what you said, it's the fact that you said it," I explained. "That was pretty rude though..."

"How can this be?" The witch with white hair demanded, "This is an ordinary canine. It should not be able to speak, it is... unnatural."

"Aren't you guys Paranormals? Your title literally means unnatural," Chica pointed out sassily. There was a loud hiss from one of the Nagas.

"We did not choose that title, dog," she rasped. I shuddered at the low, almost sensual tone of her voice.

"Enough, Naga Queen Stheno," huffed the lion.   
"Friend of fur! I am Chirombo the shredder, bright of fang and sure of claw. Bare your teeth, Wise Dog!" He boomed.

"That's the shifter's greeting ritual. He's trying to honor you, Say something!" Dark commanded, "Start with King of Beasts."

"King of Beasts!" Blurted Chica without hesitation, "I am Chica the retriever... Gold of fur and sharp of tongue. That's my best friend Mark. Bare your teeth, Mark!" She said excitedly. Wow, she was really getting into this. 

"Oh uh... I'm Markiplier, master of gaming and... king of the, umm...  squirrels." 

Dammit. I'd said the first thing that popped into my head, and that's what came out? I never realized how much I sucked at improvising. To my surprise, Chirombo took my words in stride.

\--very honorable title, King Markiplier," he commended with a thoughtful nod, "Like dogs, squirrels are held in high esteem in our lore, known for their quick and cunning ways." 

"Oh wow, Really?" I said in surprise, wincing as Chica nipped my hand.   
"Um, thank you, King of Beasts," I ammended, bowing low like Felix had.

"I speak only the truth. Now, King Markiplier, Chica Gold-fur, and Felix," said Chirombo, "tell us how you came to be here today." 

Over the next ten minutes, Felix, Chica and I took turns telling the curious Paranormals a brief summary of the past couple weeks. We left out some parts, like the things that the Seelie Elves told Felix and what happened the night before with Atticus, Sean, and Anti.

"And here we are," I finished. 

"A wild tale indeed," Allistair said thoughtfully before addressing the rest of the court.   
"If there are any others who wish to question these three, speak now." 

There was a pause. 

"One query have I," came a soft feminine voice from above. It was one of the Mermaids- I mean, Zoras. Her words lilted thickly with an accent I couldn't place. 

"Proceed, Lady Ruto," Allistair said 

"King Markiplier... we have heard from our scouts that you fear the ocean. Is this true?" The Zora named Ruto asked.

"Yeah... That's true," I agreed, deciding to answer honestly, ignoring the snicker from Violet by her father. I didn't want to seem weak, but I also didn't want to insult Ruto by lying. The only way they could have known about that was if they had seen some of my videos out of curiosity, so they already knew it was true.

"Why is this so, King?" The Zora Queen asked, tilting her head curiously.

"I mean..." I looked down, thinking about how I should explain it.  
"Well, as far as I know it's a natural human instinct. There are... things in the ocean."

"Things?"

"So many things. Humand have only explored five percent of earth's ocean. That means we don't know ninety five percent of what's down there, and that's naturally scary," I explained.   
"I mean, you guys are living proof that my... uneasiness... is validated."

"I beg your pardon, king?" Ruto asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I just mean that all of that searching, and we missed an entire intelligent race! A dangerous one. Um... Please take that as a compliment," I finished sheepishly. 

"Idiot," Virgil sent me, don't get nervous, you'll seem weak."

"An odd form of praise, King of squirrels. Indeed, your cautiousness concerning the mighty ocean is valid and very prudent," Ruto agreed calmly.

"Let it be known, however, that we do not often consume humans," said the taller male zora beside her.   
"Only those who encroach on our territory fall prey to us."

"And the same for the shifters as a whole. We can be violent, yes, but we are primarily neutral," hissed a giant snake that was wrapped around a column on the far end of the balcony.

"Oh. Glad to hear it," I said. I guess it was silly to assume that all of them hunted humans all the time. 

"Enough about these three," Allistair cut in.   
"We know enough of them, and of The Reaper and Elite as well. But you, human child..." 

Up until this point, Atticus had been silent and a little detached from the situation. Anti elbowed him, drawing his attention away from whatever he had been focusing so intently on. 

"Of all those before us, we know the least of you," the Djinn King continued, "What is your name, boy?"

 

 

Shout outs to MissBelieverOfMusic Anti-Slo that-fast-leprechaun TsundereDarkiplier for helping make this chapter (and the next one) by providing extremely useful insight and feedback.

Most of all, thank you to   ZannaOcchiBianchi for letting me use your original Character, Zanna, as a Witch Priestess. I look forward to working with you in the future, bella!


	74. 74

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Atticus' POV:

I expected myself to be frightened. Oddly enough, it turned out to be quite the opposite. 

The palatial space we warily entered overflowed with such an abundance of magical energy that at first I could hardly tell them apart. At first, the only thing I could see was the multitude of new and exotic lights; every color of the rainbow shone bright alongside deep blacks and muddy browns and grays. Incredible hues of silver and gold and even bronze mixed and mingled with each other in a lively manner, twisting gracefully through the air. It was strange; Despite myself, I felt... indescribably peaceful and not at all afraid as I busied myself examining and analyzing the ecclectic excess of power around me. Remembering myself I immediately dampened my sight, knowing that the awe-striking brilliance of the sea of light before me could quite possibly leave me blind. When I saw the sources of the light... 

'Blimey.'

Before us were at least seventy strange and exotic creatures, the majority of which were unfamiliar to me. I recognized the nagas, and of course the vampires and djinn. But the rest... 

 

 

 

(^^^ examples ^^^) 

Antioch had to snap his fingers in front of my face to make me realize that the others were already far ahead.   
We all sat in terraced seats in a structure that resembled the jury box in a courthouse.

Though I had only seen each of them once through the Ness' visions, I was happy to see that Mikhail, Amy, and Signe were safe. I found myself grinning widely as I watched Jericho's soft, white and blue light mix with Dark's, revolving lovingly around each other like a small universe. I sat on one of the outermost seats in the box so that I could examine my surroundings unhindered. 

"I wouldn't stare too much, kid," Antioch warned me, " But if you can't help yourself, at least don't make eye contact. Some species consider eye contact from a stranger either an insult or a challenge."

I'd already assumed that was the case, but I nodded my assent. After the introductions, I tried to pay close attention to the proceedings, I really did. But despite my efforts, I found my eyes wandering away to the spectacle around me. 

After about five minutes or so, something caught my eye; there was a young woman dressed in an elegant black dress sitting at a table of what I now knew were Unseelie Elves. Her mesmerizing aura was a deep wine red, rich and wild. But the lights that accompanied hers were what caught my eye. 

Two large ravens perched on each of her shoulders, one black and one white. The black raven had a white light, while the white raven had a black one. And their essence, their energy... it was intelligent and self aware. But these were not shifters, nor were they ordinary birds. I found myself fascinated by their alien energy, and compulsively began to reach towards them with my mind like Antioch taught me to do. Their heads turned toward me as our minds touched, bombarding me with a sudden and intense flood of emotion. 

Sadness. Hopelessness. Righteous anger. Imprisonment. 

As I searched their minds, I got the impression that I was able to do so only because they permitted it. I began to hear strange, abstract whispers in my head;

'Trapped... cage... prisoners... help us... help us... medium...' 

'HELP US, ATTICUS.' 

I recoiled at the sudden, booming demand that thundered through my mind. Suddenly, it was clear. Suddenly, I knew; Regardless of their appearance, these were not ravens. They weren't even of this world, maybe not of this dimension. They were incredibly wise and immeasurably old, almost God-like. And they were trapped. They were trapped and tethered to a lesser being against their will. 

It was wrong. 

'I will save you,' I swore fervently, 'I'll shatter your chains, no matter the cost.' 

I was broken out of my trance when Antioch elbowed me harshly. "Pay attention!"

I looked up to find the entirety of the room staring at me. 

"Of all those before us, we know the least of you," the Djinn King, Allistair said.   
"What is your name, boy?"


	75. 75

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

ANTIOCH

Origin:  
The city of Antioch was called "the cradle of Christianity" as a result of its longevity and the pivotal role that it played in the emergence of both Hellenistic Judaism and early Christianity. The people of Antioch were considered pious and good, which is decidedly ironic considering Anti's past behavior. Anti obviously didn't choose this name  for the city. Anti's is first host was named Arioch; combining the common latin root 'Anti' that people used in western europe even back then, he created the name Antioch to symbolically liberate himself from his prison.

Meaning:   
The name, also borne by several Syrian kings and an ecclectic philosopher, is also a Latinized form of Greek Antiokhos, literally "resistant, holding out against." A fitting name for such a stubborn Demon. 

Past Names:  
Antioch, like many other Demons, alters his name from host to host. He usually keeps the 'Anti' aspect as not only a memento of his independance, but as an act of symbolic defiance. Some of his past hosts and subsequently altered names include:   
- Adrian, changed to Antirian  
-Bram, changed to Antabram  
-Maris, changed to Antaris

ATTICUS ANTIOCH SOLOMON:

Origins:   
Atticus, formerly Olliver James Saul, Chose his first name after his uncle, whom he'd never met. The original origin of the name is from Titus Pomponius Atticus, a Roman philosopher who lived in the first century B.C.   
The name Antioch was obviously chosen as a reference to Anti, whom Atticus sees as a brother.   
The name Solomon was taken from Atticus' childhood friend and fellow orphan, Solomon Rhodes.

Meanings:  
The name Atticus literally means 'man of Attica,' a city in Athens, Greece.  
The name Antioch means 'resist or overcome.'   
The name Solomon is loosely translated to 'peace' and was made famous by Solomon, a King of Israel and the author of Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, and The Song of Solomon in the old testament.

MIKHAIL VESUVIUS:

Meaning:  
The name Mikhail is a derivitive of Michael, which can mean either 'gift from God,' or 'he who is like God.'   
Vesuvius is the name of the massive volcano that exploded over Pompeii in 69 A.D., decimating that entire city and three others within a two thousand mile radius west of its location. Vesuvius means 'large' and 'looming.' 

Origins of the clan vesuvius:

Mikhail himself hails from a faction of the Greek Resistance called 'The Clan Vesuvius.' His ancestors of nearly two millenia, who then went by a different name that is lost to time, lived in Pompeii and were pursuing Antioch at the time of the catastrophe. The entire clan was nearly eradicated by the eruption that the Demon Fell (known at that time as Baal 'iikh) caused. The twenty six surviving members of the original five hundred plus took on the name Vesuvius so that they would never forget the event that nearly wiped their people from the face of the earth. 

SIGNE (WIISHU) HANSEN

Meanings:  
The name Signe is a name of Scandinavian origin that means 'New Victory.' Anyone who knows Signe would agree that this is a fitting title for such a determined and driven woman.   
The surname Hansen simply means 'A child of Hans,' a much less glamorous title to be sure.   
The name Wiishu means 'Witch' in Elvish.

Origins:  
Though the name Hansen is nothing to write home about, there is an interesting history behind her other two titles.   
Signe was predicted by the Raven Coven's Seer to be a still-born, meaning that she would be dead before even leaving the womb. Despite the Seer's one hundred percent accuracy in all her past predictions, Signe miraculously began breathing after nearly two minutes out of the womb. 

The name Signe wasn't actually chosen by her mother, but by the Belladonna of Europe, Zanna of the Hecate Coven. Zanna appeared shortly after the baby began breathing and blessed the child, informing Priestess Aoife that her name was to be Signe. Aoife complied, possibly out of fear.   
The title of Luxis-Wiishu, meaning 'Witch of Light,' was given to Signe after rescuing a clan of Seelie Elves from an Unseelie raid. The name was later shortened to Wiishu as Signe began introducing herself by the nickname.


	76. 76

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

Anti's POV:

"I am indeed unable to deny this, Fierce King of Beasts," Atticus said, "Most humans are self serving by nature. However..." he paused.   
"I ask that you have faith in those of us who try to be better." 

I was more proud of Atticus than I'd ever been. He'd answered every question in the best way, showcasing his intelligence and garnering respect from the Paranormals that asked them. Damn, he was good.   
Guilt punched me in the gut when Chirombo had raged about Atticus' father, and for good reason. I had no room to criticize; I mean shit, hadn't I done the same thing just the night before? 

"Indeed, young human. I would ask the same of you," said Chirombo, calming down a little, "if there is anything that our species should have learned in their long history of battle with our own kinds and with each other, it is that our enemy is not always as they seem. You are wise for seeing this." 

Atticus bowed his head. "And you as well." 

"And you, snake? What is your relation to this boy?" Asked the Naga Queen Stheno, "What is the purpose of your relationship with this unusual boy?" 

Ah. It was my turn now. "Alright kid, just keep the link open and stop me if there's something you don't want me to say."

"It's just that, Queen; he's unusual. When I met him, I'd never seen any human like him. With a little training, I thought he'd make a valuable ally," I reasoned. I decided to go with the self-serving route; no reason to let on that I was forming an emotional attatchment. 

"Is this the only reason?" Stheno asked slowly, "We have heard from maiden Minthe of the Angel city that you fervently defended this human like no one before."

Fuck.

"And further more, it seems that Atticus himself follows you willingly," she continued, "is that not odd behavior for a human?"

"He rescued me from a life I hated. Between staying with him and returning to such a hated existence, I chose the former, Demon or no," Atticus cut in before I could defend myself. Both of the Naga Queens shared a glance.

"Very well; We will accept this answer," Eurayle said with a slow nod. 

"May we assume by your presence here with the Outsiders that you cut ties with Fell 'iikh?" Asked one of the witches. She had white hair and eyes and an Irish accent; she had to be Aoife, the Priestess of the Raven Coven in Britain. Signe's mother.

 

"...Yeah. Yeah that's right Priestess," I confirmed. I didn't see any reason to hide it.

I was getting uneasy; I knew questions about my loyalties were inevitable, but those questions made me a possible threat in their eyes. I knew that the Naga wouldn't be hostile because of my relationship with them, and the Shifters and Zora were probably chill, mostly because of Mark, Felix, Chica and Atticus. And then there was Zanna Occhi, the priestess of pretty much the only neutral Witch Coven in the world. And Azazel was obviously not a threat. But that was only twelve out of nineteen seats; the Vamps, the Unseelie, and the rest of the Witches were still just as much a deck of wild cards to us as we were to them.

"Interesting. And what catastrophe could lead to such a falling out between allies of nearly two millenia, I wonder?" Aoife asked slyly, her eyes narrowing. 

Ugh. How Signe turned out the way she did with such a bitchy Witchy for a mom, I'll never know. Freakin' Raven Coven; they were just as war mongering as the Dark Elves that they'd been warring with for nearly a century. 

"With all due respect, Raven Priestess..." I said slowly, trying my best to keep my tone neutral, "there are some things I think I should keep to myself."

Aoife paused before waving a dismissing hand. "Very well, Snake. That will be all."

"Wait, mother- um, Priestess," Signe called out from behind me.


	77. 77

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Signe's POV:

"Wait, mother- um, Priestess," I blurted before I could stop myself. I cringed as her cold eyes flicked to me, as distant as ever. 

"Isn't... isn't there anything you want to ask me?" I said, wincing at my meek tone. Geez, man up Signe! Ball to the wall, come on!

"...Not that I can think of," Aoife answered icily. 

I wilted. "Oh. Okay. Carry on then."

"Is this truly your daughter as she claims?" Ghoma asked, "Did you not tell us that she was dead?" 

"She is dead. I did not lie," Aoife snapped. "She was dead to the Raven Coven the moment she abandoned us. She is no longer my heir."

Even after all these years, her dismissal of me still hurt. It wasn't like she had ever really been a mother to me in the first place, but... still. It hurt. 

"Hm. Have you anything to say in your defense, Signe?" Ghoma inquired. I shook my head. 

"No, Queen Ghoma." 

"Oh, come on!"

I turned to Virgil, shocked at his outburst. His aura was flaring with rage, and Atticus closed his eyes. 

"If she won't say it, then I will!" the Djinn snarled.   
"I've had enough experience with shitty parents to have an opinion here. You," he pointed an accusing finger in Aoife's direction, "are wrong. She never abandoned you! You abandonded her." 

"Watch your mouth, boy," Aoife hissed, "Don't speak of things you know nothing about. Your voice has no place here!" 

"Virgil..." I whispered.

"Uh, yeah. It does. Especially after what he put me through," Virgil shot back, glaring at the Djinn King in the center seat.   
"As a matter of fact, almost all of us should have a few words to put in! Atticus and his bastard of a father. Mikhail, fighting the corruption in the high council until he was sick of it. Marzia, who's commrades tried to kill her over nothing! Even Anti! And you all know my story. Maybe not all of it, but enough to know that it wasn't fair," Vrgil said bitterly.

Virgil paused and took a deep breath. 

"You wanna know the truth? None of us were in the wrong. It was our families, our commrades, our friends who betrayed us in the worst way. No Aoife, Signe didn't abandon you... you pushed her away." 

With that, he fell silent, his head and shoulders held high. You could have heard a pin drop in the tense room.   
I found my eyes filling with tears; the fact that he'd stood up for me in front of the House at the risk of his own neck was incredible in and of itself. I sent him a fervent wave of gratitude that he answered with an impression of determination. 

"A bold statement," said a new voice, "but a wise one indeed." 

It was Zanna Bianche, Belladonna of the Hecate coven. I'd never even heard her voice before. I was a little confused at her input; she almost never spoke at gatherings, preferring to observe silently instead. Despite this, she and her coven were held in high respect among the rest of the Witches. 

 

Then I remembered something.

"Belladonna..." I said hesitantly. She turned her piercing gaze on me as I spoke. 

"Are you... you were there, weren't you. At my birth," I said. It was more of a statement than a question.

Zanna regally inclined her head. "Yes, I'm sure your mother told you." 

"Why?" 

"You defied fate, Signe, rightly earning the name I gave you," she answered simply. I cocked my head. 

"The name... you gave me?" I asked slowly. 

"Enough of this!" Aoife hissed, "Enough! It is no business of this court, Belladonna." 

"...Very well," Zanna acquiesced humbly. She spoke no more. 

There was a moment of silence, and I got the feeling that no one knew quite what to say. 

"Are there any other queries for my son or the Witch?" Asked Allistair. When there was no answer, he cleared his throat.   
"And for the Druid and her Demon?" 

"We know of them already, Allistair," said the giant cobra who was wrapped comfortably around a pillar on the side of the banister. Orochimaru I think. A relatively new king, from what I understood.

"You do?" Asked Jericho in surprise. 

"Indeed. Did you think our scouts would not be watching the impossible Druid?" Asked Ghoma. Geez, was that spider's voice creepy. 

"Oh. I guess not," Jericho mumbled. Dark put a comforting arm around her. 

"Are there any other beings, Alive or dead, that we should know of?" Asked Chirombo. 

"Well I was dead, but these douche canoes dragged me back into this bullshit we call reality," Virgil said dryly, moting first to violet across the room and then to Allistair. 

"Ugh, you're such an emo," Violet scoffed. 

"Look what the pot is calling the kettle!" Marzia shot back at her. There were some murmurs of confusion around the room. 

"...She does that," Virgil said.

"It is clear that we have exhausted our interrogations," Allistair sighed.   
"If there are no objections..." he stood and swept his arm out grandly. 

"Let the ball commence!"


	78. 78

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Third person POV:

Within minutes, the box that accommodated the outsiders was moved, and they were seated at a large round table in the center of the silent room. The royalty had begun to either file down the stairs or teleport to their respective tables to mingle with their subjects. Allistair, who was still standing in front of his throne, began to speak.

"Thank you all for joining us on this auspicious evening, surrounded by such close and trusted friends," he said with a smirk. This was apparently funny to all attending, as the majority let out amused chuckled.   
"Drink up! Be merry! Life isn't just for the living tonight," Allistair boomed as he descended the stairs, gesturing grandly, "Please, enjoy yourselves."

What should have been a simple command was apparently easier said than done. There was a few quiet minutes that the Paranormals spent muttering quietly amongst themselves, casting occasional sidelong glances at the outsider's table. Fortunately, this didn't last long. One by one, the creatures began visiting the long table of strange platters filled with a plethora of questionable substances whilst a merry chattering built among them. Relieved beyond measure, the outsiders turned to examine the food on their own table.

It was, for the most part, a veritable eden of generic human foods; Hot dogs and hamburgers grilled to mouth-watering perfection, bottles of water, soda, wine and beer, and even juice boxes. In the center of the table was a giant german chocolate cake that Virgil was eyeing lustfully. Whoever had designed that night's menu had clearly done their research.

Perhaps this house ball business wouldn't be quite so horrible after all. 

Signe's POV:

"Should we eat it...?" I asked, suspiciously poking the hot dog on Mikhail's plate. He swatted my hand away irritably.

"If you keep your hands off my plate," Mikhail snapped, "I might have a choice.

"I wouldn't advise it..." Atticus warned, "it might be poisoned." 

Just then, I felt something brush my hand; a piece of paper had fallen on the table by my hand, tickling my skin. I looked around to see who might have dropped it, but there was nobody near our table. Curious, I opened the note to read it...

"Mark, No!" 

We all turned at the sound of Chica's panicked voice just in time to see her knock a glass of wine out of Mark's hand. Virgil caught it before it hit the floor, but wasn't able to prevent all the wine from spilling out and splattering the immaculate white tile with scarlet. 

"Don't! Something's wrong," Chica said with a wining growl. I looked down at the note; 

Don't drink the wine.

"Dark. Mikhail. Look at this," I whispered, passing it over to them. Dark's eyes narrowed as his eyes flicked across the page. 

"Signe, who gave you this?" Asked Mikhail after he'd read it. The others began to pass it around the table to see it for themselves. 

"No idea," I shrugged. Dark lifted a wine glass and took a light whiff. He frowned deeply and placed it back on the table, eyeing it with distaste. 

"What is it?" Asked Jericho worriedly. Dark sighed. 

"It's been infused with a blood bourne curse," he said darkly. All of us but Mark, Jericho, and Atticus raised our eyebrows in shock. 

"Damn, that's brutal," Amy whispered. 

"What kind of bullet did we just dodge?" Asked Mark, pushing his plate away cautiously.

"A blood bourne curse is an old vampire trick wherein they use their own blood to infect the victim, causing unimaginable agony," explained Mikhail, "it is infinitely more potent than any poison, and far more deadly." 

"...Great. so we already know that the Vamps are on our asses," Felix griped. 

"Indeed. However, as Vampires can use neither magic or third eye abilities, a second party is needed to activate the curse," supplied Dark. 

"My vote's on the one that rhymes with bitches," Virgil said darkly. "Everyone else but they and the dark elves seemed neutral, and most of the unseelie can't use magic either." 

"Okay... so the only question now is which Witch-" Jericho started, but was cut off when Chica began to growl. 

"Greetings, outsiders. Such a pleasure," said a dark elf Queen that we'd seen on the balcony. She was accompanied by Kylus. 

"we've heard so much about you."


	79. 79

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Jericho's POV:

"Greetings, outsiders. Such a pleasure," said a Dark Elf Queen that we'd seen on the balcony. At about three and a half feet, she was unusually short for even an Elf. Despite her height, her posture and tone gave a superior impression, as if she was looking down on us. White tribal markings covered her sneering face crudely, contrasting with her dark skin and blood red eyes.

 

She was accompanied by Kylus.   
"We've heard so much about you," the woman purred, haughtily flipping her hair over her shoulder. Ugh, she reminded me of the ever popular Orwell twins from highschool; preppy, rich, and privileged. 

Lovely. 

Signe suddenly stood. "Excuse me for a moment," she mumbled as she walked away, weaving through the crowd and focusing intently on something across the room. 

"Oh dear. Is something the matter?" Asked Kylus, not sounding worried at all. 

"Don't be rude Kylus," Chided the Woman, "it's none of our business. Besides, do you really care?" 

"Shut it, Malix," Anti growled, "you of all bitches should know better than to pick a fight when I'm around." 

'Malix' sobered up briefly, her smirk faltering a little before she quickly recovered. I found myself wondering about the history between those two. 

"Long time no see, Antisepticeye," Malix purred, drawing a scowl from Anti at the nickname, "Such strange times these are... there's a lot of talk about you, you know."

"Really?" Asked Dark coolly, "and why would that be?" 

"Well..." Anti started, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. 

"He's really quite famous. As Azazel's killer, he now has the right to the Demon throne of the house," Kylus informed him. Dark's eyes widened as he slowly turned to face Anti. 

"You're the new demon king?" He exclaimed incredulously. 

"Oh...I uh... I guess I am," Anti muttered, shrugging. The rest of us stared at him in shocked silence at the revelation.

"Jesus, close your mouths! You look stupid," Anti snapped irritably. 

"Well?" Asked Malix, "What do you plan to do? Will you take the throne?" 

"Oh HELL no!" Anti said loudly, drawing attention to our table. Realizing the scene he was making, he he turned to glare at the curious spectators.

"What are you lookin' at?!" He growled. After a couple moments, everyone went back to gossiping quietly in hisses and whispers and only occasionally glancing at our table. Anti sighed roughly before turning back to our visitors. 

"No. Fuck that noise," Anti said, obviously disgusted at the prospect.   
"You guys can plot amongst yourselves all you want, I don't care. But leave me out of your political shit."

"How... disappointing," said Kylus. "Come Malix; I've had my eye on that liver platter for awhile now."

With that, they took their leave towards the buffet table. I turned to Dark. "Please tell me they're talking about animal livers," I pleaded, feeling a little sick. 

"... Jericho, if you want to get through this night with your sanity in tact, I'd suggest not asking questions like that."

Oh God.


	80. 80

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

 

Signe's POV:

"Celine! Wait up!" I called out, as loud as I could without drawing too much attention. Celine turned around at the sound of my voice, searching the crowd and grinning when she spotted me. Her raven  familiars cawed and fluttered to the back of an empty chair as she jogged over.

"Hey, Signe!" She greeted happily, capturing me in a tight hug. She laughed and held on for a moment longer when I tried to pull away, making me giggle as well. 

"It's great to see you out of that dungeon. And in that dress," Celine wolf whistled, "You're a total hex bomb, girl!" 

"I know, right?!" I exclaimed excitedly, twirling for her to take in the full view, "Virgil and Virgo made it for me! And you're pretty hot yourself," I said as I gestured at her outfit. 

 

 

 

 

 

My smile faded when the sight of her necklace and bracelet reminded me of her familiars.  
"Celine, I thought... I thought we both agreed to set Ari and Ato free if one of us inherited them. Why are you still wearing those binding charms? It's cruel," I said sadly. 

"Hey, I will!" Celine said defensively, "but I don't think I should until I become priestess; it might make me look weak."

Though I still didn't agree with it, I understood her reasoning. Power and strength of will were everything to a priestess, so she had to make a good impression. 

"But listen, Signe," Celine said, suddenly serious. She laid a hand on my shoulder.  
"We have bigger problems." 

"Like what?" I asked curiously. Celine took a deep breath. 

"Like Aoife planning your assassination."

Atticus' POV:

I paid no mind to the goings on at our table; it was mainly just talk of escape routes and possible enemies, with the occasional macabre wisecrack from Antioch or Virgil. I was more focused on Signe and the girl with the bloody scarlett aura she was talking to. 

As I examined the woman, I began to notice certain points where her aura deviated from its normal waving patterns. Two points specifically; her necklace and her bracelet around which the red light swirled a little more brightly than the rest.

The energy gave me an impression of a cage of sorts. Those two charms must have been the source of the magic that bound the ravens to her. But how to get to it...?

"Greetings, Outsiders." 

I was jerked out of my reverie as my mind instinctively zeroed in on the smooth, high pitched voice, immediately recognizing it as a threat. It was the Lord and Lady of the Vampires, Nikolai and Lillith. 

"...Sup," Virgil said finally, lazily giving a cheeky two-fingered salute. Lillith's eyebrow twitched, but she said nothing.

"I really must commend you, Virgil, Markiplier, and Chica," Nikolai purred, "Lillith has told me of your daring escape from the Nagas guarding the dungeon below. Was there not one more human prisoner in your group? Where might he be?" 

"I don't see how that's any of you're business," Said Felix, leaning back and crossing his arms. Surprisingly, Nikolai let the subject drop. 

"What's this? Will you not partake in your drinks?"

"So good of you to offer, Lady Lilith," Dark said with a tight smile, "But I'm afraid I'm not as much fun as I once was."

"Not really my thing either," yawned virgil.  
"I'm more of a, 'slam six shots of fireball and commit light arson' kinda guy." 

"...So it would seem. Have you turned to drowning your sorrows now that you've been disowned?" Nicolai asked with a grin.

Virgil's eyes flashed. 

"Oh honey... I am so much more than royal." 

After another moment of awkward hostile stares, the Vampires finally took their leave. There was a collective sigh of relief. 

"Ew... they smell like old blood," Chica huffed, snorting and batting at her nose. 

"What do I smell like?" Asked Virgil curiously. Chica thought for a moment. 

"Candy."

"Candy?!" 

"Strawberry candy." 

"Great," muttered the Djinn, slumping in his seat with a scowl. 

"While those two are bickering, might I make a suggestion, Mikhail?" Dark said dryly. Mikhail motioned for him to continue, looking bored. 

"I propose that we split up and  blend in. After all, the purpose of this meeting is for us to make an impression on the House; if we huddle around each other like a bunch of scared rabbits, what will they think of us?" Asked Dark. 

"He's not wrong you know," Felix said thoughtfully.   
"And this might give us the chance to gather more info to figure out who's in bed with the vamps."

Mikhail mulled it over for about half a minute, leaving me to wonder briefly when we had decided he should be in charge. 

"Fine," he said finally, "but we're grouping together.  
"Mark, Amy and Chica, you're group one. Jericho and Dark, go find Signe and stay with her. Virgil, you'll be with Anti and the boy. Felix, Marzia, you're with me."

"What?! Why do I have to get paired with the Demon and the brat?" Virgil whined, earning a glare from Mikhail. 

"Can you say that you'd be happier with someone else?" The old knight asked dryly. Virgil lifted a finger to protest but stopped. 

"...Nah, you're right. I hate everybody." 

The rest of us chuckled. 

"Alrighty," I said as I pushed back from the table, "operation mix and mingle is officially a go."


	81. 81

Signe's POV:

I blinked. Then I blinked again. 

"Um... what?" I asked dumbly, my mind reeling. 

"Aoife. She's planning to kill you tonight!" Celine told me urgently. "You need to leave, sneak out if you have to." 

"Woah woah woah wait, I can't just-" I began, but was cut off when Celine caught sight of something over my shoulder. 

"Crap! She's coming this way! Gogogo!" She hissed, shoving me in the other direction. Unfortunately, she didn't account for my clumsiness, so I ended up colliding with what felt like a tree trunk in a suit. I froze and looked up sheepishly. 

"Oh hey Dark." 

"Hello, Signe. Would you mind backing away a bit?" Dark asked dryly. I hugged him one before moving away.

"Hey Jericho. Hey look at that, let's go over there!" I exclaimed, grabbing both of their hands and dragging them off in the direction Celine had pushed me. Dark and Jericho followed me despite their surprise, weaving through the crowd behind me.

"What was that about?" Jericho asked when we had reached the far side of the room. 

"Well it's no big deal, really. Um..." I sighed. "My mother is trying to kill me. She's planning to assassinate me tonight." 

"What?! Are you serious? That's horrible!!" Jericho exclaimed, "But she's your mom!"

"Apparently that doesn't mean anything," Dark said wryly.   
"Signe, do you know when it's going to happen or what she plans to do? Who told you-" 

Dark's questions were cut short by a thunderous voice that sliced through the festive chatter like a scythe: 

"THERE HAS BEEN A MURDER! ASHANTI IS DEAD!!" 

The Paranormals in our immediate vicinity turned to face us and began closing in.

"Wait, you guys don't think we did it, do you? Come on!" I pleaded, hoping to reason with them. An Unseelie male drew his sword and pointed it at the floor beside me. 

"Is that not blood on your shoe, Witch?" He demanded.

Confused, I looked down at my feet to see a single bloody shoe print where my fabulous green flats had been before I took a step back. Shit, where had that come from?!

"Uh... I can explain?" I offered feebly. 

The monsters lunged.


	82. 82

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

 

 

Felix's POV:

"Maaaybe it wasn't the best idea to split up." 

Marzia shot me a withering look. "It was your idea in the first place, broccolo," she pointed out dryly. 

"Well yeah," I agreed, "but when have I ever had a good idea? I mean I have my moments, but taking my ideas with a couple grains of salt usually keeps people out of trouble." 

"If it was as terrible a proposition as you're suggesting Mister Kjellburg, I wouldn't have agreed to it in the first place," Mikhail said over his shoulder, sounding almost bored despite being surrounded by the current crowd of bloodthirsty fiends that could rip our throats out with a finger. Actually, most of them probably would if they had half a chance.

I so was not helping myself. 

Mikhail eventually led us to the edge of the room by a table of Mammal Shifters that eyed us curiously when we stopped. It was like a mini zoo; there was a fox, a leopard, a buck, an orangutan, and... was that a fucking capybara?  
In any case, we were standing close to an arched entryway leading to a broad, spacious hall that was a little like the one we first came through. I got the feeling that the old man placed us there on purpose in order to have an escape route.   
Ignoring the eyes of the shifters, he turned to us.

"Everything went better than expected tonight, as I'm sure you're aware," Mikhail began, his tone as annoyingly didactic as always.   
"Due to the grand impression that those questioned made, we are now in a fortunate and favorable position among many species." 

"Like the Shifters, the Zora, and the Naga because of Anti," Supplied Marzia. "They will likely be good, yes?" 

"Just so," Mikhail nodded his affirmative.  
"I believe some of the Witches and a few of the Djinn may remain neutral as well. The Dark elves and Vampires, however..." 

"Yeah. Besides that girl Lilah, they're pretty much a lost cause. Jesus, Vamps have zero chill!" I said in disgust. 

"Does... that include me?" Asked a small voice from my back, causing me to jump about a mile in the air. I turned around, relieved to see the only chill Vampire in existence. 

"Oh geez, it's just you," I sighed, chuckling a bit.   
"You scared the hell out of me!" 

 

The little cutie pouted a bit. Man, I'd never been fond of kids, but I had the weirdest urge to bend down and give her a big hug. All this despite the fact that she looked like almost a carbon copy of her mother Lillith and could probably have been anywhere from six to six hundred. 

"Apologies, Pewdi- I mean, Felix," Lilah amended awkwardly.   
"I didn't mean to frighten you. I couldn't help but overhear... I have 'chill,' right?" She asked. 

Jesus, those puppy eyes could literally kill someone.

"Oh! Yeah, you're totally chill, definitely," I assured her, "I wasn't talking about you, I promise."

"Oh! This is wonderful to hear!" Lilah chirped happily, drawing some brief glances from the table we were standing by. 

"Lady Lilah... where is your brother, Prince Leo?" Asked Mikhail. Confused, I shot him a questioning look to find that had that look; the shit's-bouta-get-real look. 

The girl's face suddenly grew deadly serious.   
"That is what I came to tell you! I couldn't let him just-"  

A sudden deafening shout cut Lila off and forced me to throw my hands over my ears; 

"THERE HAS BEEN A MURDER! ASHANTI IS DEAD!!" 

'Well... shit.'


	83. 83

Mark's POV:

"Oh geez. Ohhh geez." 

"Mark, seriously," Amy sighed, "You sound like you're in one of your videos." 

"Yeah, get your head out of the game, Mark," Chica teased, not bothering to hide her amusement. 

"It helps me keep calm! How are you guys so cool with all thi- Ah!"   
M

y brilliant defense was cut short by a very loud, very threatening hiss from very close by. I stiffened and turned to see a pissed off Naga not five feet away burning a hole in my head with her eyes. 

"If you wish to keep your foot, human," The star of the worst fever dream ever rasped, "I suggest you remove it from my tail." 

The other Nagas, Dark Elves, and Witches at her table giggled, cuing the obligatory blush from me. I looked down to see a scaly appendage waving sassily at me from beneath my new shoes. 

I leapt back with an embarrassing squeak.

"Oh! Oh geez, I'm sorry! Oh my gosh I'm sorry! Oh crap, um..." I stuttered, backing away and almost bumping into Chica. Luckily, I avoided her; unluckily, my back rammed into a Zora carying a food platter, knocking said plate out of his hand. I cringed as it shattered, sending glass shards and bits of fish flying across the floor.

The other lady's snickers turned into loud laughter as the owner of the offended tail looked on in amusement. Even Amy and Chica were holding back their own chuckles, those traitors.

I promptly turned into a tomato.

"Aw, he's nervous! How sweet," the gorgeous snake woman crooned in a sensual voice as the Zora stomped off angrily. I tensed as her tail lifted slowly towards my face, twitching like a cat's tail. And then... 

She booped my nose. 

I let out something like a squawk and bolted, leaving the peals of high-pitched laughter behind me. When I'd reached the other side of the room, I tried my best to catch my breath and ignore the silent stares of the Paranormals in our vicinity. Amy and Chica caught up with me after a few moments, grinning their stupid traitor heads off.

"Hey, it's not funny!" I snapped, jabbing an accusing finger in their direction, "I coulda used a hand back there!"

"Don't worry, that's just Minthe," Amy said dismissively, "She and Anti go way back; she was just messing with you."

"You're face! Priceless!" Chica guffawed. I scowled as she rolled over on the floor, batting the air with her feet in a fit of hilarity. 

"Fine. Be that way. I'm gonna go hang out with Felix," I sniffed. I searched for a second, spotted them, and began to stomp off in their direction. What happened next had me scurrying right back to them: 

"THERE HAS BEEN A MURDER! ASHANTI IS DEAD!!"


	84. 84

Note: So I really wanna get a children's book published. It's called the heart of the heavens and I'm featuring rookie freelance artists from across the interwebbs to get some recognition for them!   
If you donate, your name will be mentioned in the book :3

https://www.gofundme.com/m2dff-kids-book-the-heart-of-heaven&rcid=r01-153382796693-7bfedb8c5a474bf5&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

Virgil's POV:

"If you have something to say to me," Atticus said, tossing a dry glance over his shoulder at me, "I'd much rather you say it outright instead of burning holes into the back of my head. It's uncomfortable."

I scowled, but begrudgingly looked away. "Yeah, well no one plans a murder outloud," I muttered. Anti snorted.

"Real original, purple rain. Are we gonna have a problem here? This isn't the time to flip your bitch switch." 

"I don't have a bitch switch, you glorified leprechaun," I snapped in classic salty form, "I'm just being my normal fabulous self."

"Well, keep your fabulous trap shut." 

"In any case," Atticus cut in, "I propose following the other's lead and standing by the exit behind the buffet table; they seem to have the right idea in case things go south and this turns into a real party." 

He started heading in that direction with out looking back, assuming we'd follow. I looked at the other's positions across the room. Mikhail's crew was posted by the east hall, while Dark's group was standing by the north wall we'd entered in. Amy, Mark and his dog were hanging a couple tables over from the west hall. I snickered along with Amy and Chica as Mark scampered away from his little comedy act with Minthe; she was a bitch, but she knew how to have a good time. Mark's group ended up by the marble arch to the west side of the room. 

"Yo, you coming?" Anti asked. I nodded and followed. As much as I couldn't stand Atticus, I knew he was right. 

The truth was, I knew that I'd brought this annoying curse on myself. If I hadn't been so hasty all those years ago, if I'd just stopped for a second to think with my brain instead of my appetite, I probably would have noticed the kid's freaky energy and stayed well away from him and his wish. Unfortunately, a plea with that amount of sheer desperation was just too much for me to resist in the weak state I was in. And sure, most people would call the resulting change a gift. Maybe I would too if it weren't for- 

"Greetings." 

I looked up at the serene voice to see we'd reached the exit. Standing in front of Atticus at the head of our trio was a silver haired Witch in an elegant lacy black cloak; like most Witches, her dark make-up was done magically, without a single smudge or blemish in sight. I gotta say, she had style. 

 

"Greetings, Belladonna Zanna," Atticus returned with a bow. I was impressed; Damn did that kid have a good memory.   
T

he Witch inclined her head regally. 

"I have long awaited this encounter, child," Zanna said.   
"The boy who escapes the grasp of fate..." 

"...What do you mean?" Atticus asked quizzically. Zanna smiled enigmatically, her calm, yet piercing eyes giving nothing away. Talk about a Mona Lisa.

 

"

Your destiny begins tonight, Atticus. You will change the world, I have seen it. And yet... your future drifts in and out of focus with every step you take. Never has my sight been so short."   
The belladonna cocked her head, studying him.   
"Be wary, young Medium, and think carefully as you move forward. Farewell." 

"Wait...!" Atticus protested as the Witch disappeared, leaving the three of us to stare at the empty space she left behind in bewilderment. 

Well that was unexpected. Zanna and the Hecate Coven as a whole almost never meddled in affairs that weren't their own, keeping neutral and to themselves. The only time anyone ever saw them was at the house gatherings, and even then she barely spoke. Why was she so interested in Atticus?

Before any of us had the chance to comment, something even weirder happened.

"THERE HAS BEEN A MURDER!! ASHANTI IS DEAD!!"

Every Paranormal in our immediate vicinity turned to us... and I got the feeling that the center of their attention wasn't the best place to be.


	85. 85

Mark's POV:

Why did these things always happen to me?

Signe, Amy, Chica and I were bolting down the hallway at top speed, desperately trying to evade the hoard of Dark Elves on our tail. If we were in a nineties movie, that would have been the 'record scratch into a freeze frame' moment. I could just see it; 'yeah, that's me. You're probably wondering how I got into this situation. It's actually because my dumbass friends decided it was a good idea to split up in the middle of a crowd of bloodthirsty monsters!'

Coming soon this fall: Who killed Markiplier? Paranormal edition.

'Ugh, Fuck my life. I should've been an engineer.'

"Outsiders!" Came a deep, unexpectedly familiar roar from behind us. The four of us skidded to a stop, mostly because our eardrums were now practically bleeding. 

H

olding my throbbing ears, I slowly turned around. My heart dropped in dismay when I saw the source of the thunderous voice.   
Chirombo, Ghoma, Orochimaru, and the giant owl whos name I couldn't remember were approaching us slowly, followed by a chaotic zoo of snakes, spiders, birds and mammals. They were all gigantic; all of the mammals besides Chirombo had taken on the form of, rhinos, hippos, and elephants, while all the birds were ostriches and what looked like dodos. Huge iguanas and kimodo dragons scapmer underneath their feet alongside a hoard of massive tarantulas, filling in any empty spaces and creating an effective barrier from wall to wall. Amy drew her bo staff while Chica and I charged up. 

"We don't want to fight, Chirombo," I called out as they approached.   
"Please don't do this." 

The wall of fur, feathers, and scales came to a halt about ten yards from us. The three of us held our ground as the four leading Paranormals continued forward, stopping right in front of us. 

 

"Peace, King of Squirrels, for Nor do we," Chirombo assured me calmly. Amy and I let out a sigh of relief and put our powers away. 

"That is why we are taking our leave," Ghoma rasped. "For your sake, we bid you do the same."

"Wait, so you're gonna leave us to fight on our own just like that? Seriously?" Chica barked.  

Chirombo shook his head. "Our numbers already are so few; We cannot risk making more enemies by assisting you," he explained, "For now, it is best that we remain neutral."

"However," the giant Cobra cut in,  "if you find yourself within the bounds of our kingdoms, we will be amiable. Count on our assistance when it is needed. The Vampires, Djinn, and Witches are pursuing the others, and the exit is not far; you may leave with us if you so wish."

"Thank you, Orochimaru sama. But we can't leave our friends," Amy said. Chica and I nodded in agreement. 

"Very well. Farewell Chica Gold-fur and King of squirrels."

The animals all bowed their heads in unison before morphing into smaller snakes, spiders, rodents and birds. We stared dumbly as they scampered and slithered past us, disappearing down the hallway.

There was a moment of silence. 

"Well... that was unexpected," Amy said. 

We were snapped out of our surprise when Chica barked urgently. "Come on! I smell felix's group fighting some vamps nearby!" 

"Right. lead the way, pupper," I said.


	86. 86

Felix's POV:

"This is bad."

"Yes, you said that already, Felix," Marzia snapped.

 

"Well, it seemed worth repeating!!"

We were cornered at a dead end by five Vampires who were steadily closing in on us, eyes glinting and teeth bared.

Yep. This was very, very bad."

"Fuck. Any Ideas, old man?" I asked warily. 

Mikhail thought for a moment. Come on man... 

"Just one," he said finally. The old Knight slipped his sword back into its sheath and closed his eyes, putting two fingers to his temple while raising his other hand tomards the Vamps. To my surprise, every single one of the Vampire children collapsed to their knees, groaning and holding their heads. Task done, Mikhail drew his sword again.

"What is happening? What did you do to them?" Marzia asked. Mikhail shot her a little smirk.

"In reality? Nothing," he thought to us, "just a simple third eye illusion, one of my specialties. They will no longer be able to utilize their natural speed."   
Mikhail then answered outloud. "I have leveled the playing field, of course; it's amazing what a dead man's curse will do to a creature sustained by living blood."

The Vampires hissed loudly as they struggled to their feet. "You vermin! Filth!" One of them shouted, "How dare you?!"

"Very easily," Mikhail said smugly. "Did you think I earned the title of reaper without having a few tricks up my sleeve?"

Snarling viciously, the Vamps got to their feet and once again began to close in on us. 

Then came another shock.

A stone column on the wall beside the Vampires cracked loudly and toppled, forcing them to leap back. One of them was too slow; I winced as the stone bashed into the little girl, knocking her out cold and pinning her to the floor. 

"Sorry, Jezebel," said a familiar high pitched voice. I brightened when I saw who stood where the column used to be.

"Lilah!"

"No time for pleasantries, Felix!" Said our Vamp ex machina. She ran to my side and faced the other  Vampires with us. I returned her grin, happy that we had some help to even the odds. 

"Lady Lilah... do you really dare to turn your back on your own race?" One of the Vampires snarled, "Do this, and your only options will be execution or exile. You could still fight with us."

"True..." Lilah said. She pretended to mull it over before shooting the Vamp a feral, teasing grin. 

"But am I gonna?" 

The children lunged before I had a chance to laugh at her reference.


	87. 87

Jericho's POV:

We were fleeing down the hallway at top speed, not daring to look back at the Witches and Dark elves that pursued us. We knew we were outmanned and out matched. For the first time in weeks I was afraid of something other than fell; who knew what would happen if they caught us? 

If I'd had time to be impressed with Signe's speed, I would have. Dark was shadow cloaking while I flash-stepped. A normal human wouldn't have been able to sprint alongside us steadily at twenty miles an hour, but she surprisingly held her own.

"We need to split up!" Signe shouted, "the Witches will follow me!" 

"Don't you dare," Dark projected from within his smoky form, "if we have to fight, we'll fight together!" 

"Since when do I follow your orders?" Signe snarked back. With that, she gave a cheeky half-salute and veered off to the side, disappearing into another hallway.

"Signe, wait!" I tried to call after her. 

"Damn that Witch," Dark snarled. He reformed and the two of us screeched to an abrupt halt to face our pursuers. Sure enough, the four Witches in the group diverged in an attempt to follow Signe. 

Dark and I had other plans. 

Knowing that facing four Witches alone without help was suicide, Dark and I stepped into their path, resolutely blocking the entrance to the hall Signe had dashed into. Three Dark Elves gathered behind them, outmatching us seven to one. 

"You dare stand against us? Stand aside!" Snarled the woman that I now knew as Signe's mother. I was about to retort when Dark suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders and slung me around, covering my body with his own. There was a loud crack followed by the smell of smoke. There was mocking laughter from the group before us as I pulled away from Dark to see what had happened. 

On the floor where I was just standing was a small crater in the stone floor, blackened and smoking as if a small bomb had gone off. What in the world...

"A hex cracker? Really, aren't we above such childishness?" Asked Dark dryly. Thankfully, he was unscathed. 

Aoife turned to glower at a smirking Elf. "I could have handled that, Abbadon," Aoife growled, glowering down at a smirking Elf woman. 

'Abbadon' waved a hand in dismissal. "Go, priestess. Avenge your shame. We will handle the sorry King and his Druid whore."

Dark snarled, flaring his power alongside mine in mutual rage. How dare she? How dare she insult my Demon like that?  
Dark and I stepped aside as one, letting the Witches pass without another word. We glared at the Elves as the Women left, projecting a clear threat through our wrathful auras. 

"Signe has already reached the others," Dark said to the Elves, his voice deadly soft.   
"But you...." 

"You wont be leaving here alive," I finished for him.


	88. 88

Felix's POV:

The Vampires split up as they attacked, two for Lilah and I, two for Marzia, and one for Mikhail. I knew he'd probably be salty later about getting less of a fight.

The effectiveness of my guns was annoyingly underwhelming. The Vamp that charged me might not have been able to use his true speed, but he was quick enough at tracking the movement and angle of my guns to evade my bullets. Realizing that I wasn't getting anywhere by simply forcing him to keep his distance, I stopped shooting and retreated a bit to assess the situation. The Vampire boy stopped too, still baring his fangs and growling like an animal. 

"Seether or not, curse or not, you cannot stand against us. Our powers still outweigh your own by far, boy," he snarled. I followed his movements as he began to circle me like those villains in cheesy adventure flicks. I nodded, putting one my gun-knives away and drawing my sword.

"Yeah, fair enough. You old farts  probably have a lot more tricks up your sleeve than a human in his twenties," I conceded, drawing a smirk from the Vamp. I cocked my head as he stopped circling me and stood still. Why did he just randomly stop? I figured it out a second later. 

I tensed as my sharpened senses flared to life, zeroing in on a presence behind me. Ah, my spidey senses; always so convenient. I matched the shit eating grin of the boy in front of me as the new threat approached my back, giving no indication that I knew what was happening.

"Yeah," I said again, "I'm sure you guys are capable... but can you do THIS?!" 

I promptly threw myself into an epic back bend, using my hand to brace myself as a knife whizzed past me to lodge itself in my original foe with a satisfying thud. Still bent backwards, I raised my gun and shot at the other Vamp, nailing him right on the pressure point in his neck. He crumpled to the floor. 

"Raaah!!"

Lilah, God bless her adorable soul, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, vaulting over me with a high pitched war cry that was almost cute. I straightened to see her leap into the air again, this time launching herself at the Vampire boy who was currently occupied with the knife in his shoulder. 

Lilah raised her fist high abover head. 

"BROFIST!!" 

With a war cry that I could appreciate, she slammed his face with a devastating right hook that put the falcon punch to shame. I winced at the crunching sound before sending a bullet into his other shoulder. Like his buddy, he collapsed out cold. 

Job done, Lilah came trotting back to me. I had to hold back a laugh as I remembered what she said.   
"Did you just...?" 

"Yes. Yes I did," she grinned. Her smile faded as she turned to look at the fallen Vampires.   
"Did you... did you kill them?" She asked slowly. 

"Nah, just grazed em' with silver bullets," I assured her, "and Mikhail laced them with dead man's blood just in case; they'll have a case of light food poisoning, but they'll be fine." 

"I see..." Lilah nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you for not killing them, felix; they will hate me and possibly exile me... but they will live."

"No problem. I figured that since you're a fan of a human, you probably wouldn't have too many kills up your sleeve," I said, patting her head. She smiled before widenening her eyes at something behind me. 

I flinched as her hand shot towards my face, catching what looked like a kunai knife from Naruto just inches from my neck. 

Jesus Christ. 

"Thanks Li-" I began, but was cut off by a scream of rage from the direction the knife came from. Both of us whirled around to see Marzia slit the throat of her current kill before lunging at the Vamp who threw the knife. I loved the woman, but Jesus... she was vicious.

It was honestly kind of hot. 

"Are you not going to assist your friends, Felix?" Lilah asked. I glanced at Mikhail before turning my attention back to the terrifying whirlwind of rage that was Marzia Bisognin.

"Mikhail looks like he's wrapping things up just fine," I said.   
"And when Marzia is in that state? Hell no. She's scarier than me."


	89. 89

Jericho's POV:

We were fleeing down the hallway at top speed, not daring to look back at the Witches and Dark elves that pursued us. We knew we were outmanned and out matched. For the first time in weeks I was afraid of something other than fell; who knew what would happen if they caught us? 

If I'd had time to be impressed with Signe's speed, I would have. Dark was shadow cloaking while I flash-stepped. A normal human wouldn't have been able to sprint alongside us steadily at twenty miles an hour, but she surprisingly held her own.

"We need to split up!" Signe shouted, "the Witches will follow me!" 

"Don't you dare," Dark projected from within his smoky form, "if we have to fight, we'll fight together!" 

"Since when do I follow your orders?" Signe snarked back. With that, she gave a cheeky half-salute and veered off to the side, disappearing into another hallway.

"Signe, wait!" I tried to call after her. 

"Damn that Witch," Dark snarled. He reformed and the two of us screeched to an abrupt halt to face our pursuers. Sure enough, the four Witches in the group diverged in an attempt to follow Signe. 

Dark and I had other plans. 

Knowing that facing four Witches alone without help was suicide, Dark and I stepped into their path, resolutely blocking the entrance to the hall Signe had dashed into. Three Dark Elves gathered behind them, outmatching us seven to one. 

"You dare stand against us? Stand aside!" Snarled the woman that I now knew as Signe's mother. I was about to retort when Dark suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders and slung me around, covering my body with his own. There was a loud crack followed by the smell of smoke. There was mocking laughter from the group before us as I pulled away from Dark to see what had happened. 

On the floor where I was just standing was a small crater in the stone floor, blackened and smoking as if a small bomb had gone off. What in the world...

"A hex cracker? Really, aren't we above such childishness?" Asked Dark dryly. Thankfully, he was unscathed. 

Aoife turned to glower at a smirking Elf. "I could have handled that, Abbadon," Aoife growled, glowering down at a smirking Elf woman. 

'Abbadon' waved a hand in dismissal. "Go, priestess. Avenge your shame. We will handle the sorry King and his Druid whore."

Dark snarled, flaring his power alongside mine in mutual rage. How dare she? How dare she insult my Demon like that?  
Dark and I stepped aside as one, letting the Witches pass without another word. We glared at the Elves as the Women left, projecting a clear threat through our wrathful auras. 

"Signe has already reached the others," Dark said to the Elves, his voice deadly soft.   
"But you...." 

"You wont be leaving here alive," I finished for him.


	90. 90

Signe's POV:

"C'mon! They'll be following us at any second!" Celine yelled over her shoulder, "Go faster!" 

I followed her lead and put on a new burst of speed, despite the fact that my lungs were starting to stutter from all the running I'd already done. I might have been a boss, but even I had my limits. 

Celine's Raven familiars trailed behind us in the air as we ran for our lives. I could feel their distress; I'd have to have a serious chat with Celine after this was over. I figured she'd probably be coming with us anyway, 'cause she was done for if she went back to the Coven. 

"This way- Ah!" 

Celine veered off sharply into a marble arch that lead into yet another domed room, even bigger than the last. I heard her cry and caught up to her... 

Only to see her straddling a disgruntled Virgil.

 

Virgil's POV:

"Violent Violet, She's a riot!   
She can't keep her big mouth quiet!   
Vi is on a steady diet,   
But when she spies a pie she tries it!

I heard a feminine scream of rage followed by some sort of blast somewhere near my feet. I couldn't hold back my grin even as we fled down the hall; pissing her off had been my favorite pastime a hundred years ago, and that little chant hadn't failed me yet.

"Stop antagonizing her, you idiot!" Anti hissed, "Those assholes outnumber us four to three, and Atticus can't even fight!" 

"Hey!" The kid protested. 

"Maybe you should stop Antigonizing me," I snapped back. Anti and Atticus groaned at my brilliant pun. 

He did have a point though; I didn't really fancy those odds either.

Time to fix that. 

Soon enough we skidded around a sharp corner. We were only out of their line of sight for about ten  seconds, but it was enough. I dropped a bottle of the holy oil that I always kept on me a couple yards from the corner. I then placed a Hex bomb (courtesy of Signe, bless her adorable heart) about six feet in front of it before smoking out and flying back towards the others. 

I reformed above Anti and Atticus and let myself drop, breaking into a sprint as soon as my feet hit the floor. Both of them shot me weird looks. 

"What did you do?" 

I just grinned and held up three fingers, counting down silently.

Three...

Two...

One. 

I burst out laughing as I heard the Hex bomb explode, triggered by whatever poor sap had fallen for my little 'home alone' routine.

Atticus glared at me in dissaproval, somehow able to keep his footing without looking. 

"You have a deplorable sense of humor," the kid informed me dryly. 

"What? It's comedy."

"I thought it was funny," Anti pitched in with a smirk. 

"You don't count!" Atticus snapped. He yelped as another small blast nearly blew his foot off. Probably a Hex cracker.

"Oh hell no!" Anti shouted. He launched himself into a forward hand spring, catching himself on one hand and sending a blast of energy back at the Djinn with the other. He flipped back onto his feet and back into a run without losing any speed. One of the Djinn let out a short cry, probably either dead or maimed for life.

"Alright, two on two," Anti said, "We can take 'em. In here!" 

We veered into a spacious domed room that was devoid of any furniture or tapestries. Not the battle ground I would have liked, but it would have to do.   
The three of us dashed to the other side of the room and stopped, turning to face our foes. The two Djinn that were left, Violet and another dude I'd never met, stopped at the entrance when they realized we were no longer running. 

"You guys gonna keep fleeing like cowards, or are we gonna play another round of cat and mouse?" Violet sneered.  

"Are you saying you're the cat?" I asked, "Because that's debata-" 

My words were cut off by the 'oof' I let out when I was tackled from behind and thrown to the floor. I groaned in irritation and pain as whoever was on my back began spluttering and apologizing profusely.

"Oh my Gosh. Oh my gosh I'm so sorry um I didn't see you I-"

"Just shut up and get the fuck off me!" I snarled. I pushed up off the ground, sending the woman tumbling to the floor. I whirled around, steam practically pouring out of my red ears. 

"What the hell is your fucking prob- hey, wait," I stopped short when I caught sight of the offender in question as she was picking herself up off the floor.   
"Aren't you Wiishu's cousin? Celeste or whatever?" 

"That's Celine. And yep!" Confirmed a grinning Signe as she sauntered into the room, "she's my cousin and childhood bestie!" 

"Are you guys done with your comedy routine?" Violet called from across the room. 

"Shut up Vi, we'll get to you in a second!" I shouted back.

"Oh, hey Wiishu. Just in time for the party," Anti said, crossing his arms with a smirk. Signe's smile widened. 

"I'm not one to miss a little fun. But um..." her smile faltered a bit as she glanced behind her worriedly.   
"Uh, you guys might wanna step back a bit. I might have brought some of the party to you." 

We heeded her advice and backed away from the marble arch we were standing under. 

"And who might these party crashers be?" I asked slowly. Signe gave me an apologetic smile.

"You're about to find out."

As soon as she finished speaking, in walked the absolute last person I expected to see.


	91. 91

Anti's POV:

To our collective surprise, none other than The Belladonna of Italy, Zanna OcchiBianchi, entered the room. She stood there, regal and poised as ever as her sharp eyes slowly surveyed the scene in front of her. After a few moments, her gaze came to rest intently on Atticus. I blocked her path as she began to approach him.

"I mean him no harm, Demon," She said calmly, seemingly unoffended as she waited patiently for me to step aside. I was hesitant at first, but finally moved out of her way. Zanna had always been neutral as far as I knew; what did she have to gain from picking sides now? Atticus stared at her dumbly as she went to him, his eyes wide. 

"I... I wasn't sure before, but..." he stuttered, "your light... why don't you have a-"

"I know, young one," the Belladonna interrupted softly as she knelt in front of the kid, somehow managing to look graceful and Queenly even when she was on her knees. 

"But this is no time for trivialities. Here."   
Zanna took his hand and placed a wicked looking dagger in his palm. She closed his hand around it and turned her fathomless eyes back to his. 

"You will need this, Atticus. What you choose to do with it is entirely up to you." 

She straightened and turned around just as the people that  could only be the party crashers Wiishu was talking about ran into the room. It was priestess Aoife and Shaaman Hecate. They were the only surviving high Witches besides Zanna and Ashanti, who was now supposedly dead. 

 

 

Aoife and Hecate scanned the room with narrowed eyes. My blood boiled when Signe flinched under her mother's gaze. The Witch's eyes eventually came to rest on Zanna herself.

"Belladonna..." Aoife addressed her lowly, "Have you come to help or hinder?" 

Zanna's face remained expressionless with her reply.   
"It is beyond my power to choose, Priestess. I leave the choice to inescapable fate," she said cryptically. She turned back to Atticus.

"I will see you very soon, young one. Be brave." 

With that, her body disappeared from the top down, like it was being eaten by a shimmering curtain of air. 

"Coward!!" Aoife screamed, her eyes murderous.   
"Don't meddle in our affairs!!" 

"Mom..." 

Aoife's head whipped towards Wiishu as she timidly spoke up for the first time. It was unnerving; I'd never seen Signe act so unsure before. 

"Mom, please... we don't have to do this," Wiishu said in a pleading tone, "I don't want to fight you, I never did!" 

Aoife's eyes darkened.

"No, my daughter... you don't have a choice. ATTACK!!"

Apparently the command applied to the Djinns behind us too, because at that moment, every one of them lunged.


	92. 92

Signe's POV:

The other enemy Paranormals diverged and went after the others as Aoife approached me and Celine. 

The three of us drew our Caducei.

"You will pay for your betrayal today, Signe," Aoife hissed venomously, "You will pay the debt you owe to my shame." 

I shook my head slowly. 

"No, mother. Virgil was right," I said calmly, squaring my shoulders.  
"

I did nothing wrong. I didn't abandon you. I never stopped loving you, even after all this time. You're the one who pushed me away, mom." 

 

Aoife's eyes widened, but she didn't respond. She recovered and turned her cold gaze on Celine. 

"And you? Will you betray me as well?" Aoife demanded. 

"Our friendship is stronger than your hatred, mother," I said, pointing my Caduceus at her, "Celine is... Celine?" 

My statement ended in a question as my cousin walked away from me to stand by Aoife. I stood there, flabbergasted by the wicked smirk on her face. Ari and Ato fluttered down to perch on her shoulders. 

"Just having a little fun, Priestess," she said calmly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

"Celine... why?" I whispered, fighting the tears welling up in my eyes. She scowled. 

"You just don't get it, do you? You never did. You poor, adorably gullible little girl."   
The tears won as an evil little grin appeared on her face.   
"How could you be so naive?"

"Enough, Celine!" Aoife snarled, "I don't know what your game is, but this is no time for tricks. This battle is mine alone!"

Celine's eyes widened and then  narrowed in a fierce scowl. I looked on forlornly as my best friend shot me a bitter glare before whirling around and stomping off. I wondered if she knew just how broken my heart was...

"Prepare yourself, daughter," Aoife growled, "for this ends tonight!" 

Pushing my grief aside, I forced myself to become numb. I reluctantly raised my Caduceus.

"...I love you, mom." 

With a scream of pure rage, Aoife leapt towards me.

Atticus' POV:

"Get back, kid," Anti growled, gathering his power about him as he flared his aura, "I'll handle this, just stay out of the way."

I reluctantly backed away, retreating to a wall on the far side of the room that was relatively clear of battle. I watched Anti's battle intently, wanting more than anything to help but knowing I would only be in the way. I could feel my own energy growing despite myself, fueled by my boiling blood. I inwardly cursed my uselessness; Why couldn't I fight? Why was I so weak that I couldn't grant the aid that my friends so needed? 

Disgusted with myself, I bitterly  averted my eyes. Once I did so, my gaze was inexplicabley drawn to a certain event on the other side of the room. Signe and Celine were facing the priestess Aoife, preparing themselves for battle. I watched their bitter exchange with mild interest for awhile. 

Then the unthinkable happened. Celine suddenly smirked at Signe before shouldering past her to join the Priestess. Signe's face crumpled; she was devastated.  
Aoife shouted something to Celine, wiping the smirk off of her face. The girl left with a scowl, stalking over to where Virgil and Virgo were battling. 

My face twisted in disgust, not only at her heinous betrayal, but at the rotten, evil energy emanating from the bracelet and necklace that bound her familiars to her. I might have been able to pardon her transgression if she didn't know how much the two birds were suffering. But now that I knew that she knew exactly what she was doing...

Unforgivable.

I began fiddling with the daggers at my side as I glared in her direction. Both Ravens looked back at me before following their master. 

I knew then what I had to do.

 

Virgil's POV: 

Violet and asshole number two sauntered over to us as the other battles got underway. Anti was handling Ashanti's heir, Celine and Signe were taking care of Aoife, and Atticus was out of action, pouting sullenly in a corner. And me? I was left to face two Djinns. Alone. I turned my attention back to the smirking douche canoes in front of me. 

"C'mon guys, two on one? That's hardly fair," I said lightly.

'I'm heRe Too, yOu know.'

"Fuck off, you're not helping!" I growled under my breath. I shoved the voice into the back of my mind, stuffing it back into its box. 

"Life isn't fair, Gillie," Violet said almost sweetly, "You of all people should know that." 

I narrowed my eyes at her little jab, knowing exactly what she was talking about. 

"What, so you're just gonna take advantage of that? Crown yourself judge, jury, and executioner?" 

"Nah. I like the title of Queen better," she said, giving me a nasty little grin. 

"Ew. Don't smile at me, it's creepy," I said. I added an exaggerated shudder for effect. 

"It's better than being such a moody emo all the time," she retorted, "You should try it sometime." 

"Can't. Tragic botox incident." 

Before Violet had a chance to shoot me another sassy retort, a streak of shimmering lavender mist flew over her head to rest beside me. The flamboyant cloud wavered a bit before thickening and forming into my very cross little sister. 

"You know what I think?" Asked Virgo, folding her arms and scowling adorably, "I think you both need to lighten up a little!"

I ran a hand down my face in exhasperation. "Here we go again with this bullshit they call reality..."

"Pfft. Pretty ironic coming from someone who can bend this bullshit reality," my less likeable sibling scoffed. I stiffened. She wouldn't...

"Wait, what?" Virgo asked in confusion.  
"What do you mean?" 

"Oh, you didn't know?" Violet snickered, "Shame on you Virgil. Don't you trust your little sis?" 

"Violet, I swear to God..." I snarled. 

"What does she mean, Gillie?" Virgo asked again as Violet laughed. I looked at her helplessly, unable to answer. 

Fuck. This was gonna be bad.

"Listen, Virgo, there are things I couldn't tell you. I had to keep you safe," I desperately tried to explain. Violet cut in. 

"If you won't tell her, then I will. He's an Ajinn."

"God damnit, You fucking bitch!" I yelled. Both Virgo and the Djinn beside Violet looked shocked. I tried to put a hand on Virgo's shoulder, but she stepped out of my reach, looking hurt. 

"Is that true, Virgil? Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered. I opened my mouth to defend myself before shutting it again and hanging my head in defeat. 

"Yes, Virgo. It's true. I'm sorry." 

"How do you think he escaped his prison yesterday? He forced his powers on me!" Violet snarled accusingly.  

Ajinn were like the lepers of Djinn culture, shunned and shamed by their peers. Humans might call them mutants or savants. 

The reason Ajinn were so hated is because of their ability to not only glean power from granting wishes, but to force a desire on someone to make them wish for something they wouldn't normally want. The phenomenon is very, very rare, but when it does happen and an Ajinn is born... 

Nobody trusts them. Ever. 

But there was an even worse catch to my power; my father had  figured it out from watching me through his spies. Valentine had figured it out on our way to the Rauthaus. Violet had realized it when I overtook her mind to escape. 

I wasn't originally born as an Ajinn. 

I wasn't the source of my power. 

"Why do you think I didn't tell you?" I exclaimed, "I didn't want the only person in my shit-fest of a family that cares about me to hate my guts!" 

To my utter shock, Virgo leapt forward and threw herself at me before I was even finished speaking, trapping me in a tight hug. 

"Virgo...?" I whispered, my voice wavering. Fuck. I was gonna cry.

"I could never, ever, ever hate you, Gillie," Virgo said against my chest.   
"I'll always love you. Forever and ever." 

Now I was really going to cry. She used to say that all the time when she was a little kid, when I was still taking care of her.   
I wrapped my arms around her as a tear escaped and slipped down my cheek. 

"I love you too, sis. Forever and ever." 

We turned back to Violet after another moment. Her face was expressionless, and for once, she had nothing to say. 

It didn't last long. 

Violet raised her twin swords and crossed them, pointing the tips at us. "Think what you want, I don't give a fuck. Either way, your asses are mine."


	93. 93

Marzia's POV: 

I couldn't hold back the fierce grin that crept its way onto my face. Finally, some action! 

The thing I'd hated most about my time as an Elite was the loathsome pomp and circumstance of the Resistance. The unbearably boring Council meetings that we were forced to attend to recieve our orders, the complicated formalities that were required of us... it was absolute torture. The House Gathering was no different. I wasn't frightened or dismayed when we were forced to flee; I was elated. 

Even more so when I was charged by two Vampires when Mikhail got only one. I would have screamed in frustration if the battle was too easy; as it was, I knew the experience would be cathartic. 

A little Vampire boy worked at me from a fair distance wielding throwing knives and kunai. I easily blocked the projectiles with my dagger while my other opponent, a Dhampir girl, struggled to keep up with my swift sword.

I put my absolute all into the fight, flipping and leaping and slashing with the most complicated maneuvers I knew. I made sure to go a little easier on them, making each cut shallow so that I could make it last. Beauty and makeup and pretty things meant nothing to me, but this? This was my life. 

Yes, it was deplorable. It was viscious and basely feral. It was bloody and barbaric.

But I loved every second of it. 

...Until the boy dared to turn and aim a kunai knife at Felix. 

My vision flashed red. A familiar rage began to boil inside of me, releasing itself in a wrathful war cry. I knocked the girl's sword aside and slit her throat with a simple flick of my wrist before she had the chance to scream. I slowly turned around to glare at the boy, who was backing away nervously as his eyes flicked back and forth between me and the corpse. He was right to be afraid.

"That," I growled, "was very, very stupid."

He drew his sword as I threw my own weapons to the ground and charged with a wordless roar of rage. I yanked my chain scythe off of my hip as I went, swinging it around to build momentum. I launched it at his legs and sliced his shin open, drawing a cry from him. 

"Bastardo!" I yelled as I yanked my scythe back. 

"Figlio di puttana!"

I struck at his sword arm this time, sending a spray of blood from his wrist and causing him to drop his weapon. I swung again and again with non-lethal slices of varying depth to ensure maximum pain.

"Tocca ancora Felix, e guiro che ti spezzo le ossa delle dita una per una, facendoti provare talmente tanto dolore che l'unica cosa che ricorderai e il mio nome e solo perche lo incidero con una lama sul tuo petto!"

He fell screaming to his knees, unable to support his weight under the strain of my attacks. 

"Ti strappero le budella e te le faro ingoiare solo per potertele STRAPPARE DI NUOVO!!"

"NON USCIRAI VIVO DA QUI!!"

With that final curse, I delivered my final blow, angling a masterful upward stroke that sent the scythe through the underside of his jaw and so deep into his scull that the tip protruded from the top of his head. 

He was dead before he hit the floor. 

I sniffed and flipped my hair over my shoulder before calmly approaching the body. Mikhail walked over as I was ripping the blade from his face. 

"That," he said, "was terrifying." 

"Thank you," I smirked smugly as I gathered the chain and reatached it to my hip.  
"I try." 

My blood went cold at Felix's scream. 

Virgil's POV: 

Virgo stepped in front of me and drew her double edged axe. 

"No, Violet. Not today. Never again."

I tried to leap in front of my stupid brave sister, but was stopped by the other Djinn. I felt like snarling in frustration, but I managed to keep my cool; either way, he'd be down and out in a minute or two. I would just have to trust Virgo to hang in there until then. 

We began to circle each other. 

"Prepare yourself, traitor; I have come to kill you," he said in an accent I couldn't quite place. I briefly wondered if it was French before remembering that I didn't give a fuck.

"Really?" I said, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise, "Well we have quite a pickle then, don't we?"

"Oh? And why is that?" He sneered. My face darkened as I began assessing his mind.

"Conflict of interest; I don't plan on dying today, bitch."

As I suspected, it was a pretty yawn-inducing battle; he had a pretty strong mind for a Djinn, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. It didn't take me more than five minutes to bend his will to mine and force him to wish for death. 

"I-I... I don't want..." the man stuttered between his sobs. His weapons were discarded on the floor beside him, having been droppedwhen my power achieved its full effect. I looked on coldly as the Djinn shut his eyes tightly and clawed at his skull as if trying to push my suggestions from his mind with his bare hands. 

I sighed and crouched down infront of him. 

"You sure about that?" I asked.   
"Think about it. Peace and quiet, the chance to finally rest and get away from your father's shame..." 

I'd seen some of his past through my invasion of his mind; apparently his father was a huge asshole who didn't approve of anything Darius here did, no matter how much Darius tried. Pretty brutal. 

I decided to go in for the kill.

"You can let it all go, Darius..." I coaxed softly, tightening my grip on his mind, "All you have to is wish. Can you do that for me? To make it all go away?" 

His hands slowly dropped from his head as I spoke. His posture relaxed, shoulders slumping and eyes fluttering closed.

"Please kill me..." he whispered brokenly.

"Say it." 

"I wish... I wish that I... were dead," he murmured.

I nodded and put my palm to his forehead to finish the job. It only took a couple seconds for me to end it. He collapsed on his side as his broken life force flooded out of his body and into mine. I winced at the pain in his spirit. Fuck was I a terrible person. I was using the body to wipe the blood off my sword when I heard the spine chilling scream.

It was Violet. 

I whirled around to see Violet and Virgo on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of blood. Violet was clutching an unconscious Virgo to her chest and sobbing uncontrollably. I was confused until I registered the blood pouring out of a massive wound on Virgo's side. 

My blood went cold. 

She wasn't unconscious.

Felix's POV:

"It was an incredible experience to watch a seether in battle..." Lilah said shyly as we made our way over to Mikhail and Marzia, "But forgive for saying that I don't think I want to bear witness again anytime soon." 

I put a hand on my chest and gasped, pretending to be insulted.   
"Hey now, I didn't kill anyone!" I protested. 

"Zero deaths!" Lilah crowed happily, making me grin. 

"Hey, nice refere-"

I came to a halt as Lilah suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes opened wide in shock.

"Lilah...?" I asked uncertainly. I jumped back as a sword burst through her stomach, sending a spray of Scarlett into the air.

"LILAH!!"


	94. 94

Felix's POV:

Lilah collapsed to the ground in a pool of oddly bright red blood, coughing and gagging. I quickly kneeled beside her, turning her onto her side towards me so that she could breath. 

"Lilah! Lilah, oh God no," I whispered frantically, shucking off my overcoat and pressing it into the wound. 

"F-Felix... I..." she mumbled, her eyes fluttering as she looked up at me with red tears running from her eyes. 

"Don't try to talk, just hold on! You're gonna be okay!" I said. Fuck, there was so much blood... 

"There he is!" Marzia shouted. I looked up and saw her sprint past us toward a little blond boy that was walking calmly towards the door. He must have been wearing some kind of glamour before; I hadn't seen him before that, too focused on Lilah to notice anything else. The boy looked over his shoulder when Marzia screamed, his face cold and expressionless. 

It was Leo. 

Lilah's own twin. 

I turned my focus back on Lilah as Marzia ran to Leo. I heard a bang and some kind of hissing noise followed by a cry of frustration from Marzia, but all of that barely registered. None of that mattered. 

Lilah reached out and took my hand in her own, her grip weak.

"I-It's okay, pewdiepie," she said softly. I could tell she was trying to keep the pain off of her face, probably for my benefit. 

"No. Don't talk like that!" I said fiercely, "You're not going anywhere, you hear me?!"

Lilah took her hand from mine and slowly reached for a scabbard around her waist. Tears gathered in my eyes when she pulled out the dagger I gave her and held it out to me. She put it in my hand and closed my fingers around it. 

"Lilah... no..." I said brokenly. 

The Vampire girl gave me a pained ghost of her former grin, showing off the gap in her teeth from the missing fang. She bumped her fist against mine, the one that was holding the dagger.

"B-bro... fist..."

"Bro fist," I whispered.

Her hand fell from mine, her bloody eyes closing. 

"Lilah? Lilah!" I called out desperately. I put my hand on her cheek. 

"Lilah..."

 

Virgil's POV: 

My heart stopped cold in my as I stared numbly at my two sisters; Virgo was propped up limply on Violet's thighs as she kneeled in a puddle of blood that was spreading steadily over the pristine white tiles. Violet was sobbing and holding her sister, stroking her lavender hair. 

"No, oh fuck..." Violet whispered, "Don't do this to me now, Vee... you were supposed to stop me, you were supposed to get away!" 

She looked up at me, shaking and breathing hard. "I-I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it, I swear! I thought she would dodge, I thought..." She trailed off as she choked on a sob.

"She just... she just smiled at me. She smiled Virgil. Why... why would she smile like that? Why?!" She shouted hysterically through her tears, clutching Virgo's body tighter.   
"Why, Virgo? Please wake up..." Violet pleaded desperately.

Virgo didn't answer. 

I began to move towards them on shaky feet, walking, then running, then sprinting. I was almost there when someone stepped into my path. I snarled, my fresh grief fueling my anger and frustration. 

"Get the fuck out of my way, Celine," I growled. The Traitorous bitch just smiled sweetly. 

"No."


	95. 95

Felix's POV: 

"Lilah..." I whispered. 

I gritted my teeth clenched my fists tightly, shaking and practically hyperventilating with unadulterated rage. She didn't deserve this. She was probably the only Vampire in the whole God damn world that didn't deserve this!

"I'm gonna kill him!" I roared, leaping to my feet and starting for the door the little bastard left through.   
"I'm gonna fucking rip him APART!!" 

"Felix, no!" Mikhail shouted. He came out of nowhere, catching me by surprise and forcing me into a headlock.  
"The boy set off a toxic hex bag in the entryway; if you follow him, you won't last a minute!" He said, grunting as I struggled. Marzia approached me and put her hands on my cheeks, making me pause for a couple seconds as I looked into her eyes. 

"Felix, listen to me. You need to calm down," she said, her voice soft but urgent, "If you lose control right now-" 

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" I yelled, beginning my struggles again.   
"LET ME G-" 

I stopped as my face whipped to the side. I felt the impact before I registered the hot sting on my cheek.

I blinked. I blinked again.

She... she slapped me.

Marzia gripped my jaw in one hand and jerked my face back to hers, glaring fiercely into my eyes.

"You listen to me, broccolo," she growled lowly, "Justice will mean nothing if you are dead. This is not the time to act so rashly. Do you understand me?" 

I nodded slowly, shocked out of my anger and grief for a moment.  She leaned in and crushed her lips to mine in a bruising kiss that made me a little dizzy before releasing my face roughly and stepping back.

"Good." 

I stood still, not fighting as Mikhail hesitantly released his grip on me. I took one last look at Lilah's body before closing my eyes and turning away. I took a deep, slow breath and tried my best to keep my cool. Marzia was right; if I lost it and went into rage mode right now, I'd be a danger not only to myself, but to my friends as well.

I pushed down the lump in my throat; I could mourn later. 

"Fine. Lets go." 

"Hey look! It's Felix!" 

The three of us looked up to see Mark, Amy, And Chica trotting into the room, thankfully through one of the two non-toxic doors. 

"Are you guys okay?" Mark asked when they reached us.  
"Chica said she smelled you fighting some Vamp-" 

"We're fine," I interupted sharply, making Mark flinch a bit. I looked away from his confused face; I probably sounded harsh, but I couldn't find it in me to care at the moment. Amy nudged Mark and whispered something to him. I saw Mark turn to look at Lilah's corpse out of the corner of my eye before reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder. 

"Hey man, I-" 

I knocked his hand off me and turned away. 

"Don't," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.  
"Just... Don't."

Virgil's POV:

"I said get the FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!!" I screamed. My grief for my little sister was crippling. But like everything else in my life, my anger kept me on my feet.    
Celine looked genuinely taken aback for a moment by my outburst, but quickly recovered.

"Believe me, I would," she sniffed, "I couldn't care less about you and your sisters, but unfortunately for you, I have nothing better to do at the moment." 

She glanced back at Signe and her mother across the room.   
"Lot of family drama going on these day, huh?" She mused absently. My blood boiled at her flippant tone.

"Oh, you want drama?" I growled as I drew my sword for the first time in years. I usually didn't need it, but I was done playing games. 

"You want drama?" I repeated.   
"I'LL SHOW YOU DRAMA, BITCH!!"

I charged with another scream, my sword raised and my aura flared high. I closed in fast; twenty feet.   
Ten feet.   
Five feet. 

Clang. 

I was jerked to a sudden stop as my sword collided with another piece of metal; A bright purple, double sided axe. My eyes slowly trailed from the blade of the weapon, to the arm of the person holding it, and finally to their face. 

What I saw jarred me to the bone.

"Virgo?"


	96. 96

Virgil's POV:

"Maybe I should explain," Celine said conversationally. I stared at the clone of my dead sister as she spoke, unable to look away from her vacant, expressionless face. 

"My familiars here," she said, gesturing up at the black raven circling above us while stroking the other on her arm, "Are family heirlooms that I got from my mother a couple years back. Granted, I had to kill her first, but that's just semantics."

Wow. I didn't think I could hate her anymore than I already did, but leave it to this bitch to prove me wrong. 

"Matricide, huh?" That's a new low for you," I said scathingly. I reached out with my mind and sent a wave of reassurance to Virgo's spirit as I spoke. Her ability to mentally articulate was stunted, almost like she was gagged, but she fought through it to return the sentiment, and let me know it was okay.

"It runs in the family. Did you know that mariticide means to kill one's spouse?" Celine asked.  
"I learned that little tidbit when my mother murdered my father." 

"Anywho, Ari and Ato here have a very unique ability in that their energy doesn't emanate from their own beings. If you wanna get technical about it, they don't even draw power from this plane of existence," Celine explained. I stayed quiet, just letting her ramble. I hated hearing her aloof little banter, but at the same time, I didn't want it to end; the second she stopped talking, I would most likely have to fight the vessel that my sister was trapped in. 

"They draw their power from the dead; the veil means nothing to these babies," she smirked.   
"And now that your sister's spirit has been uploaded to the 'cloud,' they can use her to their advantage. Well my advantage, anyway. Speaking of the cloud... wanna see another cool trick?" 

I didn't answer.

"No? Well too bad."

She jerked her head at the white raven on her arm in a silent command. The bird cawed and shot into the air, flying up to start circling by his brother. Multiple strings of sparkling black light streamed down from the bird's wings and congregated into a thick, roiling column of energy beside the vessel trapping my sister. The smoky essence quickly dissapated, revealing... 

"Mom?" I whispered. 

 

My mother, the late Queen Vendetta, stood there by my sister, her face just as cold and stony. 

"What did you do to her...?" I asked in horror. Celine grinned. 

"Ari and Ato don't have to use freshly dead spirits. If it's someone that they killed, they can tug the soul out any time they want," she explained smugly. My blood turned to ice. 

"You... it was you?" I asked dumbly. 

"Indirectly, but sure. I did a pretty bang up job of covering my tracks too, if I do say so myself," Celine said, her voice disgustingly casual. Seeing my dumbstruck face, she sighed. 

"Cheer up. You think you're the only one with family problems? Please. 

"I had to live my whole life trailing behind Signe. I had to watch her and the priestess get all the attention while me and my mom lived out our boring lives backstage, all because she happened to be born to the right person. And I had to play nice! I had to hold my tongue. And then? You wanna know what the final slap in the face was? She threw it all away.

"Signe just up and dodged out one night, leaving the heir seat to my mom, Aoife's niece. And even after Signe fled and I killed my mother, all Aoife could talk about was Signe. Signe, Signe, Signe. Whether the attention was positive or negative, she was still living in the spotlight. Kinda like you, actually." 

She shot me an appraising look. "You were the apple of your daddy's eye all those years ago, weren't you?"

"What makes you think I care about any of that?!" I shouted, finally tearing my eyes away from my mother's face, "Why? Why did you kill her?!" 

"Hey! It wasn't just me. I had some help, you know," Celine protested, looking insulted. 

"Yeah, I know that already!" I hissed, "Ophelia wanted the crown, so-" 

"Ophelia? Really? you think Ophelia had anything to do with Queen Viviana's death? your slut of a step-mommy didn't have the brains for that kind of stunt. She was deep-throating a silver spoon her entire sorry life," Celine scoffed. 

"Enough fucking games!" I shouted.   
"Don't ever try to get inside my head, celine. It's too dark for you."

"Oh, I've been inside your head for years, Virgil," Celine laughed,  "Your dumb ass just couldn't see it. Your mom could, though. That's why she had to die.

"TELL ME WHY!!!" I screamed. Thankfully, my anger for Celine was helping me hold back the tears building in my eyes at the sight of my mother after all these years.

"Woooow, you're thicker than I thought. I thought it would have been obvious after my whole shpeel on why I killed my mom," Celine yawned.  
" Like I said, I had help. You wanna know what really happened? You wanna know why your mom is dead and you were framed for it? Ask someone who's got experience with growing up in someone else's shadow."

"What, like you?" I snarled. 

"Oh, no... like her." 

Celine pointed to Violet.


	97. 97

Virgil's POV: 

"What are you talking about?" I asked slowly, looking past my resurrected Mother and sister to my living one.  
"Violet... what did you do?"

"If it makes you feel any better, her part was pretty small," Celine said.   
"Queen Vendetta was pretty good friends with my mom at the time, so when I killed her, Vendetta was pretty pissed. She had somehow found me out and was planning to tattle to the other Witches. But I had a friend of my own, one who wanted the same thing as me; the crown." 

"Violet, what did you do?" I asked again, sharper this time. Violet finally looked up at me, tears still streaming down her face. 

"I-I knew that Valentine wouldn't want the crown, and Celine promised that she would get you and mom out of the way if I gave her the keys to our castle," Violet said quickly, "Virgil, I didn't think that she would-" 

"I doesn't matter what you thought would happen!" Celine interrupted, "You still gave me the keys to the Queen's chambers. And that didn't stop you from taking full advantage of it after the fact."   
The Witch turned back to me.   
"Violet's the one who framed you. She put your weapons at the scene and smothered the act with your DNA." 

"But they would've-" Violet tried to protest.

"Sent you to the voidrealm for accessory to murder? Like they did Virgil when everyone thought it was him?" 

Violet looked down again. "I didn't want them to die though... I didn't want..." she trailed off and ran her hand through Virgo's hair as I stood there, staring at her in numb horror. 

"Violet..." 

"I'm sorry, Virgil. I'm a selfish coward, I know. But the crown won't mean anything if my family is dead," She said softly. She closed her eyes.  
"I'm so, so sorry." 

"Jierda."

The three of us, Celine included, jumped as a blast of energy flew from behind me and struck my mom's clone. She exploded into royal purple mist too suddenly for any of us to react, her weapons clattering to the floor. Both ravens let out caws that, if I didn't know better, sounded triumphant. 

"Mom..." I whispered in shock. 

"That wasn't your mother and you know it, Virgil."

I turned to see none other than Atticus walk up to stand beside me, glaring straight at Celine and brandishing an ornate black dagger at her.

"Necromancy... A wicked magic indeed. You'll pay for the sin of using these creatures so perversely today, Celine," The kid said coldly.


	98. 98

Atticus' POV:

I took advantage of Celine's preoccupation with gloating like a bloody Bond villain to make my move. 

Not one of them saw me approach.

"Jierda." 

I was five feet behind Virgil when I made the command, lifting my hand in a shoving motion with my  fingers spread wide. A burst of colorless energy exploded into existence and rocketed over Virgil's shoulder to strike the weaker of the two restless spirits. I presumed the woman to be Virgil's mother from her likeness to his elder sister Valentine. 

 

I felt a rush of thanks from the woman's spirit before she vanished completely; hopefully her defeat meant that her soul would be able to rest. 

"Mom..." Virgil whispered, taking a halting step towards where the woman had stood a moment before. I continued forward and stopped beside him. 

"That wasn't your mother and you know it, Virgil," I said grimly before turning my eyes to Celine. I lifted the Belladonna's black dagger and pointed the deadly weapon at the remorseless Witch.

"Necromancy... A wicked magic indeed. You'll pay for the sin of using these creatures so perversely today, Celine," I stated flatly. I spoke with no anger or emotion in my voice; it was simply a fact, like a physician giving his patient a terminal diagnosis. 

"Okay Shakespeare, calm down," Celine chuckled. Her face then abruptly turned serious as she seemed to consider something.   
"Hey kid... what kind of stunt did you just pull there? It's not like I'm a huge magic history buff, but I'm pretty sure that what you just did was relatively unusual."

"If you really must know," I said, casually fingering the edge of my blade, "I can't honestly say that I really know myself. I've yet to explore my own power. But I really don't see how any of that matters... seeing as you'll be dead soon."

Celine let out a loud laugh before settling into an attack position as Virgo's clone did the same.  "Likewise, brat." 

I looked at Virgil, who was sweaty and paler than normal. As hard as he was trying to hide his anxiety, it was obvious that he was suffering from panic and extreme grief. 

"Virgil. Look at me." 

I looked him straight in the eye when he turned his head.   
"Listen to me. Your sister is counting on you. That," I pointed to the clone, "is your sister's spirit, trapped in that false body and forced to remain on this plain of existence where she doesn't belong. She needs you, Virgil. You have to put her to rest." 

Virgil's eyes calmed gradually as I spoke, becoming less hysterical and more determined and resolute. He nodded his head and turned back to look at 'Virgo.'

"Wise words for a human brat," he smirked, drawing his swords one more. 

"I'll hold off Celine. Don't worry, I'm stronger than I look... and I'll have help," I assured Virgil, glancing at the ravens.  
"You handle Virgo; she would want you to be the one to do this." 

"If you say so..." Virgil said uncertainly.

"It's obvious that she's going to send Virgo after you anyway to unsettle you; I'll just stay alive long enough for you to come help me. Deal?" I sighed, peeved by his concern. 

"Fine." 

"The fuck do you think you're doing?!" Anti suddenly bellowed in my head. He was still fighting the other Witch across the room and just happened to see me.

"What I have to," I replied simply, shutting out the Demon's frustrated snarl before Charging in after Virgil. 

"FERA!!"

 

 

Enochian words used: 

Jierda: push or break; strike with great force.

Fera: fire/ flame


	99. 98

Atticus' POV:

I took advantage of Celine's preoccupation with gloating like a bloody Bond villain to make my move. 

Not one of them saw me approach.

"Jierda." 

I was five feet behind Virgil when I made the command, lifting my hand in a shoving motion with my  fingers spread wide. A burst of colorless energy exploded into existence and rocketed over Virgil's shoulder to strike the weaker of the two restless spirits. I presumed the woman to be Virgil's mother from her likeness to his elder sister Valentine. 

 

I felt a rush of thanks from the woman's spirit before she vanished completely; hopefully her defeat meant that her soul would be able to rest. 

"Mom..." Virgil whispered, taking a halting step towards where the woman had stood a moment before. I continued forward and stopped beside him. 

"That wasn't your mother and you know it, Virgil," I said grimly before turning my eyes to Celine. I lifted the Belladonna's black dagger and pointed the deadly weapon at the remorseless Witch.

"Necromancy... A wicked magic indeed. You'll pay for the sin of using these creatures so perversely today, Celine," I stated flatly. I spoke with no anger or emotion in my voice; it was simply a fact, like a physician giving his patient a terminal diagnosis. 

"Okay Shakespeare, calm down," Celine chuckled. Her face then abruptly turned serious as she seemed to consider something.   
"Hey kid... what kind of stunt did you just pull there? It's not like I'm a huge magic history buff, but I'm pretty sure that what you just did was relatively unusual."

"If you really must know," I said, casually fingering the edge of my blade, "I can't honestly say that I really know myself. I've yet to explore my own power. But I really don't see how any of that matters... seeing as you'll be dead soon."

Celine let out a loud laugh before settling into an attack position as Virgo's clone did the same.  "Likewise, brat." 

I looked at Virgil, who was sweaty and paler than normal. As hard as he was trying to hide his anxiety, it was obvious that he was suffering from panic and extreme grief. 

"Virgil. Look at me." 

I looked him straight in the eye when he turned his head.   
"Listen to me. Your sister is counting on you. That," I pointed to the clone, "is your sister's spirit, trapped in that false body and forced to remain on this plain of existence where she doesn't belong. She needs you, Virgil. You have to put her to rest." 

Virgil's eyes calmed gradually as I spoke, becoming less hysterical and more determined and resolute. He nodded his head and turned back to look at 'Virgo.'

"Wise words for a human brat," he smirked, drawing his swords one more. 

"I'll hold off Celine. Don't worry, I'm stronger than I look... and I'll have help," I assured Virgil, glancing at the ravens.  
"You handle Virgo; she would want you to be the one to do this." 

"If you say so..." Virgil said uncertainly.

"It's obvious that she's going to send Virgo after you anyway to unsettle you; I'll just stay alive long enough for you to come help me. Deal?" I sighed, peeved by his concern. 

"Fine." 

"The fuck do you think you're doing?!" Anti suddenly bellowed in my head. He was still fighting the other Witch across the room and just happened to see me.

"What I have to," I replied simply, shutting out the Demon's frustrated snarl before Charging in after Virgil. 

"FERA!!"

 

 

Enochian words used: 

Jierda: push or break; strike with great force.

Fera: fire/ flame


	100. 100

Atticus' POV:

Ignoring Anti's shouts of protest from across the room, I charged straight for Celine. 

"FERA!!" I shouted. I still didn't have the earthliest idea how I could possibly know that that particular word would send a stream of concentrated fire shooting out of the tip of my dagger, but nor did I care at that point. The thin string of flame twirled about, bending to my will as it weaved through her Caduceus and struck directly at her bracelet. 

She winced and clutched her wrist before glaring back at me wrathfully as we circled one another. 

"And just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Hissed Celine, sending a moderately sized blast of energy my way. I promptly deflected it with a word and a wave of my hand. 

"Bombarda! Isn't it obvious? If not, then it will be in a moment," I retorted. 

"Cryptic little brat," Celine snarled before pointing fiercely at me. "Ari! Attack!!" 

At her words, the black bird swooped down in a swift nosedive, headed straight for me. I stood stock still, not flinching as he dodged to the side at the last second, turned, and landed on my shoulder with a happy caw. I relished the satisfying look of shock and disbelief on her face. Priceless. 

Celine stood agog for a moment before quickly lifting her wrist to her face to examine her bracelet, noticing its charred surface for the first time. I grinned. 

"I may not be able to entirely negate the power of the raven's shackles without removing those talismans from your person, but that doesn't mean I can't weaken them," I said smugly as the other raven came to rest on my free shoulder.  
"They still can't attack you directly, but neither do they have to do as you say anymore. You're through, Celine!" I shouted, charging her again as the birds left my shoulders. 

Virgil's POV:

"Let's see if those sparring sessions all those years ago paid off, shall we?" I asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood as Virgo and I stared each other down. Her face remained flat, but I could feel a weak mental smile from her at my flippancy.

I quickly turned serious. "Virgo, I'm sorry about all of this. I'm gonna get you out of there, okay?" 

The Vessel with my sister's face gave no outward warning before charging. I blocked her blow for blow as she struck out at me mercilessly with her axe, gracefully spinning her weapon and herself simultaneously. I'd never met anyone else in the world who handled a weapon taller as themselves half as well as my sister had; the way she ever so slightly manipulated the continuous momentum of her twirls and spins, letting the gargantuan axe use her just as much as she used it... it was a sight to behold. I'd forgotten how terrifying she could be. And now that her spirit was being used like fuel to power a body that was out of her control, it was even worse. 

I found myself struggling to defend myself as my swords screamed with each harsh blow, knocking me back again and again. I was afraid that she would be forced to kill me when... She stopped. 

She suddenly halted in the middle of her latest attack, missing me by centimeters as she purposely lifted her axe to slice over my head. She opened her fingers, allowing the weapon to fly across the room end over end like some ridiculously huge shuriken and lodge itself firmly into the wall over twenty five yards away. In the next second, before I could react, she threw herself at me... 

And impaled herself on my sword.

I stood there, my eyes wide and mouth open in shock as she continued to push herself onto the blade until she reached me, wrapping her arms around my shaking form even as she dissolved. 

"Thank you," she whispered into my shoulder. I closed my eyes tightly and returned the embrace, taking in a shaky breath. 

"...No problem, sis." 

I held back tears as the vessel exploded into her signature sparkly purple dust, leaving my arms empty. 

"Fuck..." I cursed, swiping at my eyes harshly with hands that were still stinging from the shock of her brutal attacks.   
Allowing myself no time to grieve, I turned back to Celine and Atticus just in time to see the kid go flying through the air and slam into a wall before crumpling to the floor.

"FUCK!" I shouted again. I snatched up the sword I dropped and raced to intercept a very bloodthirsty Celine.

Anti's POV: 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Why couldn't that kid just keep his stupid English nose out of trouble?!

"Don't become distracted, Demon," Hecate laughed, taking a swipe at my head with the chained whip on the end of her Caduceus. I ducked and turned my attention back on her with a dark scowl. 

"Alright bitch, listen up. I got places to be, so I'm just about done fucking around."   
I lowered myself back into a fighting stance and prepared to go on the offense one last time.   
"Let's finish this up quick, yeah?"


	101. 101

Atticus' POV:

In one second I was charging Celine, intent on blood. And then in the next moment, as simple as that, I was rocketing off to the side, flying head over heels for a good three seconds before I struck the wall broadside and hit the ground hard. Stars studded my darkening vision as I weakly lifted my head to see Celine stalking towards me, murder in her eyes. The ravens fluttered about restlessly behind her, unable to do anything but watch as she approached me. 

"What's that one saying? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?" She snarled. She reached me and grabbed my wrist, squeezing it to the point of shattering. I held back a cry as the bones gave way under her vicious grip, crackling like glass beneath my skin. 

"A HAND FOR A HAND!" Celine finished the quote as she placed the caduceus' tip to the underside of my wrist. I was unable to keep from screaming as the weapon began to flame, singeing my skin right down to the bone. I hadn't a doubt in my mind 

"J- Jier.... JIERDA!!" I roared through the pain. I thrust my free hand into her chest with the command and sent her flying back at least ten meters, forcing her to let go of me. I dropped back to the floor and looked up blearily to see her flip out of the air and land on her feet. 

Virgil sprinted over to kneel at my side. "Holy shit kid, are you oka- uh, you know what? Nevermind," he said, wincing at the sight of my mangled hand before turning to yell over his shoulder, "Pretty sure hand for a hand means equal payback, not cruel and unusual punishment!!" 

"Your sister, is she...?" I asked as I struggled to get to my feet. Virgil pushed me back down.

"Yeah, It's done. You just worry about yourself kid, you've done enough. And for the record... You're not as much of a twat as I thought you were." 

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I said dryly. 

He smirked at me before straightening and turning to brandish his swords at Celine.

"Buckle up, buttercup," Virgil snarled.  
"You just flipped my bitch switch."

To both our surprise, Celine responded by calmly raising her Caduceus and placing it over her shoulder so that it was pointing behind her. She smirked as it lit up and sent a blast of red light rocketing backwards... 

Striking an unsuspecting Signe in the back.


	102. 102

Virgil:

My eyes widened in shock and horror as Signe was blown forward by the sudden explosion. She was unconscious- at least that's what I told myself-  before she hit the floor. 

"You BITCH!!" I screamed for the umpteenth time that night, charging a laughing Celine. I snarled and swung again and again and again, growing more frustrated every time I came back empty. Even worse, I was too weak to work any of my Ajinn powers on her.

With the speed and force we were both fighting with, it took less than a minute for blood to be drawn. I let out a scream through gritted teeth as she sent a blast of energy through my leg, leaving a hole close to the bone. I retreated as Celine let out a sympathetic hiss that almost seemed genuine. 

"Ouch. Might wanna put some ice on that." 

"SHUT UP!!" I roared, rushing at her again. A couple seconds later, I found myself falling face first towards the ground as I was hit by a minor binding hex that trapped my ankles together and my arms at my side. My skull cracked against the tile floor, sending painful stars shooting across my vision. I looked up and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as Celine gathered her power in her hand and lifted it towards me in preparation for one final attack. Too mentally and physically weak to escape the binding hex, I shut my eyes tight, said fuck it all, and waited for death. 

'Sorry Virgo. Looks like I'll be seeing you soon.'

...

...

"AAAAAAAAGH!!!"

My eyes flew open at Celine's bloodcurling scream. 

They opened even wider at the sight of Celine snarling and holding the bloody stump of her wrist while Atticus backed away from her, clutching her necklace and the charred bracelet that was still attached to her severed hand.

Atticus' POV:

I was weak. Very weak. 

Sitting there slumped against the wall with my head in my hands, I realized that Celine must have laced that burn with some kind of curse to sap my power. Damn it all... 

I groaned and shook my head, trying to banish the last of the blurriness from my eyes. After roughly a minute, the darkness cleared a bit from my vision and I was finally able to stand without feeling as if I was going to retch. 

Gritting my teeth, I ignored my pounding head and looked for Virgil. My stomach dropped when I spotted him writhing on the floor before a laughing Celine, struggling desperately against some sort of magical binding that was restricting his movement. Celine had her hand raised and aimed straight at Virgil from nearly point blank range as she sneered down at him. 

I lowered my head and charged, my dagger held low beside my hip. When I reached her, I grabbed the hand that she was using to concentrate her power and yanked it back, startling her out of her task and causing her to almost lose her balance. She had only just barely glanced at me when I tightened my grip on her wrist, swung the dagger upward with all my might....

And severed her entire hand like it was a stick of butter, taking the bracelet with it. 

As Celine screamed in agony and  clutched the bloody stump I'd left behind, I took the oportunity to sheath the dagger and yank the  cursed necklace off of her neck before backing away warily, not sure what to do next as her power began to build again with rage. 

"Youuu..." she hissed, her eyes flooding with deep, blood-red light as she slowly turned to me.  
"What have you DONE?!" 

"I've read the old testament too, Celine," I replied calmly as I backed away, "If that's the way we're going to play it, then I'm all in."

I switched my hold on the two stolen items to my right hand and brandished the dagger towards her again. I watched as she took two objects out of her cape, things that I now knew as hex bags. 

I assumed I could somehow block them. 

That assumption turned out to be very, very foolish. 

"YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!!!" Celine thundered, her voice distorting as she sent the two hex bags rocketing towards me. 

Not expecting either of them to explode in midair, I was unable to avoid being blinded by a brilliant flash of light from the first of the bags. Because of that, I didn't even see the second one coming. 

There was an explosion.

There was darkness. 

And then all I knew was pain. 

Anti's POV: 

"Sionara, Senora," I growled. Hecate toppled to the floor, gagging as blood poured from her slit throat. 

"Wait... did I just mix two languages?" I muttered to myself. 

"YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!!!" 

The scream of unadulterated rage than Celine let loose had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I whirled around just in time to see Celine preparing to hurl two hex bags in Atticus' direction. My heart dropped at the sight of the one in her right hand; that wasn't just any hex bag...

Mark, Amy, Chica, Mikhail, Felix, and Marzia chose that moment to enter the room from the door closest to Celine and Atticus.

Celine launched her Attack.

"HEX BLAST! GET DOWN!" I screamed before ignoring my own advice, dissolving, and shooting towards Atticus as the others back tracked and ran out of the room. 

I was close. 

I was so, so close. 

I was about five feet from him when the explosion went off.


	103. 103

..................................................................................................................................

You know, It's kinda funny. 

Until that moment, I thought he was almost invincible. The way he stubbornly defied all odds and survived so much pain and sorrow and grief through his incredible will to live another day... he fought. He never stopped fighting.

Up until that moment, all I knew about him was that he always won. He suffered and survived through it all. When life beat him down, he went kicking and screaming. He'd always get back up on his feet, brush himself off and stand tall again. And after that... 

God help the one who knocked down my brother.

..................................................................................................................................

Anti's POV:

My heart stopped beating.

I couldn't breath. 

I couldn't move.

I could only stand there in numb  shock  like a fucking idiot as my new little brother was brutally ripped apart before he even had the chance to scream.

I snapped out of it as he hit the floor.

"ATTICUS!!" 

The hoarse scream was ripped from my throat as I sprinted over to where he'd fallen. He was shaking and covered in blood, clenching the stolen necklace in his remaining hand. I fell to my knees beside him and gently turned his face towards me to see some of the bones showing through his charred, bloody skin. I sobbed through clenched teeth att the sight of his eviscerated left eye and his missing ear. His mangled leg and lack of a left arm. The entire left side of his body past his hip and shoulder was completely shattered, every place that I hadn't had time to block disintegrated into blood and bone.

"No no no no no," I chanted quietly as those stupid, stinging  tears that I hated so much flooded down my face and blurred my vision. 

No! No, you can't do this to me! Stop, I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!!" Celine shouted. I looked over to see the ravens circling her, their black and white auras blurring together brightly in an obvious threat. Celine screamed and fell to her knees as her skin and hair began to smoke like a Demon dipped in holy water from the caustic, wrathful energy. 

The birds lunged. 

The white raven swooped down in a graceful nose-dive, his beak open and deadly claws bared, shining with his rage. Celine's desperate commands were cut short when her throat was slit brutally from ear to ear. She collapsed, grasping at her neck as she was suffocated, drowning in her own blood.   
The black raven followed suit, cawing loudly and diving swiftly downward to lodge his three inch talons into his former master's heart. Celine's eyes widened as her mouth opened in a silent scream. 

She stopped moving. 

The horrific scene had only taken a matter of seconds. Atticus' mouth was opening and closing as he met my eyes, like he was trying to speak through his labored breathing. 

"Atticus..." I whispered in dismay as I carefully lifted him up into my arms, wrapping him in the light he'd given me. I barely felt the Raven's talons as they fluttered over to perch on each of my shoulders.

"Don't try to talk, kid. You're not allowed to die before I do. You hear me?" 

I stopped for a second as my words stumble over the lump in my throat. 

"You're more than I'll ever be, Atticus. What's the point of the light you gave me if you're dead?" I whispered brokenly. My heart clenched painfully in my chest as he smiled at me. 

He was still fighting. 

"You better hang in there, kid. If you die, I'll kill you." 

With that, I ran towards the newly opened portal, trying my best to absorb the shock of my movements.  

Please...


	104. 104

Virgil's POV: 

I pushed the pain in my leg to the back of my mind and ran to my sisters, ignoring the pile of blood and bones that was Celine. I threw myself down on my knees by my remaining sister to find her staring blankly off into space, her face dull and emotionless as she clutched Virgo's body close to her own.

"Violet... Violet!" I shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her to try and get her attention. 

"Violet!!" 

Violet's POV, the night before

(Check chapter 30 if you don't remember this, it's been awhile.)

I stomped through the wide halls, carrying my broken stilettos in one hand and gripping the missing six inch heels in the other, wishing I had someone to stab them into. On top of everything else, Virgil just had to take it upon himself to ruin my new pair of shoes I'd been planning on wearing to the ball. That fucking rat!!

I reached the temporary bed chamers that had been set up for me, kicked open the door, slammed it, and threw myself on the queen sized bed. After I was done screaming into my pillow, I forced myself to calm down enough to stop and actually think about what just happened. 

Well, now I knew why father was suddenly so obsessed with my long lost brother; Virgil was an Ajinn. How the king knew about that in the first place was beyond me, but I did know that he would do anything to keep that kind of unlimited power close and at his disposal. 

I wondered if he knew about the source of Virgil's power. That annoying little voice I'd heard gabbing in his head was a dead giveaway that Gillie wasn't born an Ajinn. 

And why did that brat wait two entire weeks to escape? Why didn't he just use his power immediately and blow this dick stand asap? He might have been waiting for his friends I guess; that seemed like the type of dumbass thing he'd do. 

The door to my chambers opened. "Violet."

I sighed and turned on my side, facing away from the door.  
"What do you want, Val? I'm not in the mood for your uppity bullshit right now," I snapped. 

I heard the door close. There were a couple beats of silence that did nothing for my frayed nerves.  

"Virgil escaped," Valentine said finally.

"I know." 

"Along with his friends." 

"Yeah, I know," I snapped, finally turning to glare at my sister.  
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" 

"...Did you have anything to do with that?" She asked. I scowled and turned back over. 

"What if I did, Val? You gonna tattle on me?" I shot back. 

"No." 

"Then go away." 

"However, I have my suspicions on how our brother was able to make his getaway," Valentine continued, "is there anything you would like to share?" 

I considered her question. Did she know too? 

"Nah," I said simply before rolling over to look at her again.   
"Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be heading to the dungeon right now?" I asked. 

"I am. I was on my way back from the Blood King's room, and your chambers were on the way." 

I sat up straight for the first time. "Are you shitting me? Dark is here?" I exclaimed. Valentine nodded. 

"Yes. Father entered the room after I took my leave; I don't think he yet knows about Virgil's escape." 

I slid off the bed and grabbed a new pair of heels. I glanced up at Valentine as I slipped them on. 

"Thanks for the tip, sis." 

"Where are you going?" She asked curiously. I stepped around her and out into the corridor, not bothering to hide my smirk.

"To get some answers." 

 

..................................................................................................................................

When I got to Dark's chambers, dad was still there. I begrudgingly left and wandered around the Rauthaus for about an hour and a half before returning, not wanting to piss off my father. I arrived back at Dark's room later that evening to find him laying down on the huge bed, grinning up at the gigantic mural of the Millenia Wars on the domed ceiling. The hell was he so giddy about? 

I cleared my throat loudly. His smile evaporated into a scowl of annoyance as he slowly turned his head towards me. He gave me the judgemental elevator eye as we stared each other down. 

"And who might you be, Nymph?" Dark asked calmly. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Dark. Even though we both know what I am," I said just as steadily. I wasn't wrong; there was no way he didn't know that I was a Djinn. He'd even seen me at house meets when he was still the Demon King.

"You had me fooled; you certainly dress like one," Dark shot back, jerking a thumb towards the far side of the mural, where a group of scantily clad nymphs were painted running away from- ironically- a Demon.  
"I'm not surprised that you would consider that little jab a compliment, seeing as the morality and sense of self worth of any Nymph would by far exceed your own," he continued. Okay, I'll admit that stung a little.   
I had to work a little harder to hide my nerves when he summoned a six foot, double-sided, scary looking axe out of thin air and stood. 

"I've seen you before, Violet Sanders," He hissed. Ah, so he did know me.  
"I know of your sins, your lust for power and need to control. I've seen your sword-sharp tongue and wicked mind, seen the hideous, hateful beast that sleeps beneath the lovely lie of your skin. I've seen your many transgressions against your own flesh and blood through the eyes of the brother you betrayed."

He finally reached me and raised the axe, placing the edge against the wall two feet from my head and angling it so that the curve of the blade closely surrounded my neck. If I moved an inch in any direction, blood would be drawn.

He continued speaking.

"Demons are considered by many to be the cruelest and most bloodthirsty creatures in all of creation for the fact that we feed almost explicitly on shock and fear unless it's from our bound. We are known for being sadistic and...Dark, going to extraordinary lengths to draw every last morsel of terror from our victims.

"But Demons, at least, don't hide their bloody nature behind a pleasant facade. Demons are honest, straightforward with their intentions. We kill, we eat. But you, my dear... you are far, far worse than any Demon, Angel, Dark Elf, or Vampire that I've ever layed eyes on."

"And how's that?" I asked, turning up my nose at him as best I could in the confined space. I was proud of how well I was keeping my cool until, to my chagrin, a violent flinch was forced out of me when he flared his aura. He grinned savagely and continued.

"Betrayal. Deception. Treason and treachery. There is nothing more repulsive to me than Judas' kiss, Princess, nothing more vile than a turn-coat. And you, you deplorable creature..."

I screamed as he suddenly yanked his axe out of the wall and swung straight at my head. I ducked, just barely avoiding being decapitated.

"You are the epitome of all I've described. And unfortunately for you..." he hissed as he leaned in, "Your Caesar is a good friend of mine."

He removed the axe from the wall once more and turned to walk back to the bed.

"Now," he said calmly as he sat down, "what brings you to my humble prison?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again before running out of the room, fighting tears as his laughter followed me down the hall.


	105. 105

Violet's POV:

I slammed the door of my bedroom closed and leaned against it, breathing hard. I slid down to the floor as the tears I'd been struggling against finally broke free, streaming down my face. I swiped roughly at them, knowing and not caring that my makeup was probably ruined. I had gone to Dark's room for answers about Virgil's power, but ended up getting torn apart by his accusations. Which, by the way, were all true. 

I knew what I was. I already knew I was a hateful monster. But my conscience was always pushed to the back of my mind, just as much for my own sanity as for keeping up appearances. My envy for my siblings had always won out. Each of them had attributes that I envied: 

Virgo was always so sweet and kind and optimistic, able to be happy and hopeful no matter what hit her. She was adored by almost everyone she met. She made making friends seem so easy.  
Valentine was proud and self assured, an endlessly intelligent and cunning woman who never, ever lost her cool. She commanded a respect that I could never hope to gain.  
And Virgil... he was strong. He was witty and smart and important. He had a future in the kingdom, destined to play a pivotal role in the fate of our entire species.   
But you know what I envied about my siblings most of all? 

They knew exactly who they were. 

I never had that. I was never, ever comfortable with being myself. Having to live hidden in my brother's shadow didn't give me much of a chance to really find out who I was. It was always about him. He was the heir, he was the important one, he always came before me. 

As kids, we didn't pay much attention to the court. Neither of us cared about grownup stuff like that. We just spent our days playing with baby Virgo while father and Valentine, who was fifty years older, went to those boring negotiations and treaty signings and occasional war councils. But as time went on, we were both dragged into the rotten world of royalty to a degree that neither Virgo or even Valentine had to endure. I knew that we both resented it... But I resented him more. 

With every passing year I spent sitting sideline to the future king, the more toxic my relationship with my family grew. I hated how I was ignored, hated how my brother got all the positive attention. So when the opportunity came to change that... 

I took it. 

I wasn't even thinking. I didn't consider the consequences until it was too late, when my mother was dead and my brother was suffering the ultimate punishment for a crime he didn't commit. But I somehow convinced myself to take advantage of the situation. After all, why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I have my time in the spotlight after all those years in the dark? 

So I pushed my guilt and grief to the back of my mind and played along with Celine, using every opportunity that arose to strengthen my status as future queen of the Djinn. I gradually gained favor with my father and with the court, garnered respect from our allies and fear from our enemies. After awhile it became natural, so much so that I could almost forget my sins. 

Almost. 

I sat there curled into a ball against the door, my head buried in my arms as I sobbed. I couldn't get the things that Dark said out of my head. I was defeated, devastated; In a matter of minutes, that bastard had managed to dredge up every forgotten wound that I'd so carefully buried, every emotional  scar of grief and regret and self hatred that I'd hidden with my hate.

"Damn you, Dark," I whispered shakily.

"Damn you..."


	106. 106

Virgil's POV: 

"VIOLET!!" I shouted one last time. Though she still didn't look at me, I saw some light return to her eyes.   
"Violet?" I asked tentatively, laying a hand on her shoulder. 

Yeah, I knew that I had every right to hate her, and to an extent, I did. I resented her for her role in destroying my life and in my mother's murder, resented her for the fresh wound of Virgo's death. But through all of that, she was still my sister. Somewhere deep inside of her was the twin that I still loved, the girl that was my best and closest friend before the world ripped us apart. I'd already lost one sister; I'd be damned if I was gonna turn my back on Violet and lose another. 

The others gathered behind me but stood back to give Violet and I some space. I heard Jericho whisper Virgo's name in a shaky voice, but beyond that, no one spoke. I didn't know or care when she and Dark had entered the room; all that mattered was in front of me. 

"Guys! Atticus is fucking dying over here, we have to go!!" Shouted Anti's voice from across the room. There were gasps and cries of shock from everyone behind me, and I looked up to see Anti running towards us while cradling the kid's limp, broken body in his arms. My heart dropped at the sight of his missing limbs; there was no God damn way he would make it back to the hotel. 

There was a sudden gust of wind followed by a loud wooshing sound, and I flinched as a shadow portal exploded into existence in front of us. I looked down; Violet was holding a Port Medallion in her hand, holding it up to the newly opened abyss. She finally met my eyes. 

"There. You can go now. This should take you to a safe house across town. Father had it prepared in case an emergency arose," she said softly.  
"This is the only port key." 

I nodded. "Go, go!" I shouted to the others. Anti dashed through first, holding atticus. Mikhail brought up the rear of the group, holding Signe's body; I really hoped that the fact that he bothered to take her with them meant that she was still alive.

I felt a hand on my shoulder.   
"We have to go, Virgil," Dark said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. I nodded grimly. 

Ignoring Violet's protests, I gently eased Virgo's body from her grasp and pulled her to her feet before grabbing her hands. 

"Come with us, Violet. Please, it's what Virgo would have wanted," I pleaded. Relief washed over me at her shaky nod. 

"Alright. Come on, we can sort all this out later," I said as I followed Dark as he ran after the others through the portal entrance, pulling her behind me. 

I had just crossed the threshold when I heard her cry out as her hand was suddenly pulled from mine. I whirled around.  
To my horror, my own father was standing there behind Violet with his arm gripping her shoulders as she struggled against his hold. Before I could react, he lifted his sword...

And slit her throat. 

"NO!!!" I screamed, lunging for him as he released her and let her crumble to the floor beside Virgo's body. Allistair delivered a brutal kick to my chest that sent me flying back over the threshold. He bent and lifted the port medallion from Violet's bloody fingers as I leapt to my feet and promptly crushed it. I screamed in wordless rage and once again ran for the entrance as it began to quickly fold in on itself. I was too slow; by the time I reached it, it was barely big enough to fit a small child. 

"VIOLET!!!" I roared. The last thing I saw through the opening was my twin using the last of her strength to reach out and weakly take Virgo's hand in her own. 

The light went out of her eyes. 

The portal closed. 

"No..." I whispered.


	107. 107

Third person POV:

The sole surviving heir of the Djinn kingdom entered the room just as the portal closed. She paused for a moment to stare expressionlessly at the empty space the outsiders left in their escape before approaching the king to stand beside him over the bodies of her siblings. She looked down; Violet was holding Virgo's hand, clinging to her sister as best she could with her last breath. 

"Where did the rest of the house go?" Allistair inquired. 

"Gone, father," The princess said.   
"The Shifters and Zora left straightaway. The vampires and Elves were defeated, but there were no casualties to those royal families aside from Lady Lilah. Some Paranormals left when they felt the energy blasts from this battle, thinking it too much a risk to fight. The rest are gathering the survivors and taking their leave as we speak." 

The king was silent for a moment, his expression fathomless and cold.  
"...Fine. send a task force to seek out my traitorous son and his little friends." 

Allistair turned to his daughter. "It appears that you, Valentine, are my only remaining heir," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Your loyalty will be rewarded, my child." 

The princess gave him a rare, soft smile.

"I am loyal to the blood of my blood, father," she stated simply. In the next second, a sickening crunch sounded through the silent room. Allistair's gagging cough echoed off the walls as his eyes widened, mouth opening and closing in shock. He fell to his knees, blood leaking from his lips as his daughter brutally twisted the hand that was lodged in his chest beside his stuttering heart.

She gently placed her other hand on her father's cheek. 

"Loyal to the very end."

She swiftly wrenched her arm back, stepping away to avoid being touched by the distasteful spray of blood that followed.  Allistair slumped to the ground beside his fallen daughters, his statuesque face frozen in shock as he stared lifelessly at his greatest sin.

A silent moment passed as Valentine Sanders, Queen of the Djinn, gazed expressionlessly at the King's bloodied corpse.

Then, a single tear that was even rarer than her smile fell from her eye and trailed its way down her lovely face. 

"How empty this triumph is," she whispered softly.  
"A victory of mere ash and blood..."

The Queen turned to once again gaze at the vacant space where the portal had vanished. 

"Fly you to the heavens, my brother," she said. The words were sacred, a fervent Djinn blessing reserved for their most loved.

"Fly you to the heavens, and may you find your place among the stars." 


	108. 108

Virgil's POV: 

'Dammit, not this shit again!'

I'd been running through the darkness after the others towards the other end of the wormhole, a destination that should have taken no more than ten seconds to reach. But of course my dumb ass would fuck it up somehow. 

I found myself tripping over my own feet and eating shit on the nonexistant floor of the portal, cracking my forhead against the surface. I groaned and tried to lift myself, tried to call out to the others up ahead, but I couldn't get any words out. I found myself getting weaker, my energy dissolving.

'What the fuck is happening to me?' 

"You're dying."

My head shot up to see that my surroundings were gray and blurred, wavering hypnotically before my eyes. The others up ahead were frozen in time, like detailed sculpures derived of any color. 

I narrowed my eyes as a familiar man sauntered up to me in full HD color, grinning his stupid head off as usual. I'd know that face anywhere.

It was mine, after all. 

"Hello Thomas," I sighed. His grin just got wider. 

"Hey, Virgil." 

 

 

"I see you lost the purple hair," My annoying mental stowaway commented. I scowled. 

"Well I haven't exactly had the time to dye it in the past month, have?" I snapped.   
"What do you want? I'm busy." 

"Uh, like I said, you're dying. Again. I think you can spare a couple seconds," Thomas scoffed.  
"And besides; as your unofficial alter ego, if you die, I go with you. And dying would really put a damper on my afternoon." 

I looked away, disgusted by his little smile and flippant tone. His disgusting positivity made me want to barf. 

Despite how much I despised him, I did owe him a debt. He'd already saved me once before a couple weeks prior when I was completely obliterated in the battle with Anjali. 

I didn't regret sacrificing myself. I was completely ready to die doing something selfless for once, but of course the fucker couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd suspended me in the veil, stubbornly clinging to life for the both of us while he contacted the only person that he knew could pull me back; my father, the most powerful Djinn I knew. Which also pissed me off because in doing so, he pretty much ratted me out me as an Ajinn. That's how daddy dearest had known about my power, and why I ended up in his dungeon instead of the place I was killed.   
Violet, even though she didn't know all the details, lent her power to Allistair as the wish taker. Knowing them, neither my father or twin would have sacrificed anything of their own; they probably threatened some poor sap's family so that they could trade his life for mine. 

I was sick of it. I was sick of people dying for me, sick of putting everyone near me in danger. My entire life, no matter how hard I tried, I destroyed everything that I touched, myself included. 

This was the last straw.

"...What if I don't want to live?" I asked softly.

He cocked his head. "What?" 

My eyes shot to his, my face twisted in a murderous snarl. 

"I said what if I don't want to live? The only person I ever really cared about is gone. Violet was finally my sister again, so of course she had to die too. My father still hates me, and Valentine? That stone cold slice of feminine superiority doesn't give two shits about me. She never has and she never will." 

I turned my face away from Thomas, my scowl deepening at the stupid, puppy-eyed look of compassion on his face. 

"I don't need your pity, sunshine," I snapped, "or your help. Just fuck the hell off and leave me here to die." 

Thomas was silent for a moment. 

"You know," he said, "I'm not the only one who's here to see you." 

"And who might that be?" I asked sarcastically. Not that I cared about anything the little cock-eyed optimist said. 

"Gillie?" 

My head shot up at the soft voice. Oh my God... 

"Virgo," I breathed. Thomas walked off to the side of the tunnel as my little sister came into view. I watched in wide-eyed disbelief as she stepped carefully through the frozen statues of my travel buddies, staring at them in confusion as she went. She stopped in front me to help me to my feet.

"Gillie, are you okay? I heard your voice..." I couldn't do anything but keep up my slack-jawed stare as she fussed at my hair, brushing it back into place. 

"What happened?" She asked, "where are we? I thought that I..." she fell silent, leaving the obvious unsaid.

When I stayed silent, Thomas stepped up to the plate. Her eyes went to him as he walked around her to stand beside me. He he grinned and held out his hand. 

"Heyyy, I'm Thomas. I've heard a lot about you! All good things, I promise." 

Virgo hesitated before putting her hand in his, brightening his grin. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of us as her eye brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Excuse me, but... who are you? And why do you...?" She trailed off uncertainly. Thomas waved his hand through the air. 

"It's a really, really long story involving a prison break and an Alchemist and some runaway orphans and... well, never mind," he dismissed.   
"We really don't have time for that right now; you're kind of a temporary download, so we gotta hurry this up." 

"Virgo," I whispered finally, drawing her attention back to me.  
"Virgo, I... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't..." My voice cracked, halting my words. Virgo just smiled at me, taking both of my hands in her own. 

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault. I just couldn't bring myself to fight Violet anymore and I just... I hesitated."   
She shook her head.   
"I still love her, though. Virgil, would you tell her that for me?" 

My heart clenched as I struggled to answer through the fresh wave of grief triggered by her words. "I... Virgo, Violet is... she was..."

Virgo's eyes widened in realization. She looked down. 

"Oh." 

"Allistair did it," I told her, "Violet's the one who made the portal for us. She didn't want to kill you Vee, she was about to come with us, but..."

Virgo cut me off with a hug, one that I returned gladly. 

"It's okay, Gillie. She was good, in the end," she whispered. 

"I'm sorry I didn't have the power to bring her here too," Thomas said sadly. 

"It's fine. But wait, "Virgo's eyes widened again as she pulled back from the hug to look back up at me.   
"Virgil... if you're here, are you dead too?" She asked in horror. 

"No! No, I'm not, I'm fine," I said quickly. 

"Uh... no. No, you're not. He's dying," he told Virgo bluntly. I shot him a glare.

"Well don't fucking sugar coat it for her, you ass." 

"You're what? Why?!" Violet exclaimed, looking almost hysterical. I shushed her. 

"Don't. It's okay now that you're here," I told her with a small smile before turning to Thomas. 

"Allistair used a Djinn wish to bring me back the first time you suspended me, right? Can you do that again?" I asked grimly. 

Thomas blinked a couple times before nodding slowly. "I mean, in theory? Sure, I guess. But you'd need a wish and a life to trade though, so I was just gonna-" 

"Stop. That's all I needed to hear," I cut in.   
"I'll give what's left of my life right now for hers." 

"What?! No!!" Virgo shouted at me, horrified at the thought of what I was insinuating. 

"Virgil..." Thomas began slowly, but my sister wasn't done. 

"I would have to willingly wish my life away for that to work. And never," she punched me in the shoulder, "ever," she punched me in the other shoulder, "EVER would I go through with that!! How could you even-" 

I caught her next punch before it collided with my chest; it was harder than normal, as weak as I was.

"I could force you." 

Virgo froze and tensed up at my words, lifting her head to glare at me. Thomas took a couple steps back, looking extremely uncomfortable. I almost retreated a bit as well; I had never seen her with anywhere close to this much wrath in her eyes.

"Don't you dare, Virgil. Because if you do... I will never forgive you," she snarled lowly. I flinched back at the venom in her voice, retracting my hand reflexively. She didn't let me go though; instead, she yanked me back into another hug. I wrapped my arms around her as well, holding on tight as she cried into my shoulder. I closed my eyes, fighting my own tears.

"Guys. You need to hurry, You've got maybe a minute," Thomas said.

"I know it's selfish," Virgo sobbed, "I know I'm only causing you to suffer more when you're already in so much pain. But I need you to keep living." 

"Dammit Vee..." I whispered over her head, my voice unsteady and strained. I gripped her tighter.

"Promise me you'll keep living," Virgo begged brokenly, "Promise me that you'll try to be happy without me, Gillie. Please."

"Only for you, Vee," I murmured. 

My arms collapsed inward so that I was suddenly hugging myself. I slowly opened my eyes. 

She was gone. 

"...Sorry in advance for this next bit," Thomas said suddenly after a moment's pause.

I turned. "Wait, wha-" 

 

Dark's POV:

I was the last to exit the portal. I turned back to ask Virgil if he was alright... only to find that he wasn't there. My chest tightened as the entrance shrunk and disappeared with a hiss, allowing the tear in space to stitch itself back together. Did Virgil not make it...? 

That's when I heard a much smaller hiss accompanied by several light pinches on the back of my calf. 

"Ow! What the-" I growled, reaching down to grab whatever had a hold on me. To my surprise, I ended up grabbing a handful of soft fur. The little thing gave an indignant squeek and another hiss as I held it up by the scruff of its neck to examine it.

 

"What on earth...?" I muttered in confusion as the small black cat dangling from my grasp glared daggers at me. 

"No! Put him down!" Anti shouted, accompanied by the sounds of multiple weapons leaving their sheaths. Startled by the sudden noise, I dropped the cat, only to have it land on its feet and scurry back up my body to rest on my shoulders. I was annoyed beyond all measure, but that could wait. 

When I turned to see what the commotion was, I immediately understood the legitimacy of Anti's urgent tone.

"Put him down, Zanna!" He snarled again.


	109. 109

Anti's POV: 

When I burst through the threshold of the portal, I immediately searched for a place to put atticus down. We were in a Quaint looking two-room cottage like in 'Little House on The Prairie. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, completely devoid of furnishings except for some windows and the essentials of each room. It wasn't much, but Thankfully there were a couple beds by the wall. 

Mikhail and I quickly went over to lay our passengers down. Signe was breathing steadily, sporting just a couple bruises. But Atticus... his breaths were harsh and erratic as he twitched and shook, his eyes wide as he struggle to stay awake. God dammit...

"L-Liqui... Liquifactive N-Necrosis... It's... n-need to..." Atticus tried to whisper. 

"Easy kid, easy..." I muttered. The two ravens that followed us through the portal fluttered down to perch on the bedframe by his head as I examined his wounds. 

His torso and everything to the right of it was fine. His entire  left leg was unsalvageable, mangled and charred and just barely there, while his left arm had just completely disintegrated from from the shoulder down. His face wasn't looking much better. The left side was a horrific mess of raw, scorched skin; I could see the tip of his cheek bone and a bit of his jaw where the thinner parts of his skin had given way. Every open wound had been automatically cauterized by the intense heat of Celine's attack, so there was no blood.   
I felt sick for the first time in years as I took in his missing ear and eye that I knew he would never get back. How could I have let this happen?   
How could I fix this? 

"Anti!" Jericho exclaimed suddenly. 

"Shut it, I'm-" I started to snap, but stopped.   
Atticus had disappeared. One second he was there, and just like that he was gone. I cursed and whirled around to see that everyone else had drawn their weapons and took on their various fighting stances. My heart stopped cold when I saw who they were surrounding. 

 

The Belladonna of Italy, Zanna Ochibianchi.   
And she was holding Atticus. 

"No! Put him down!" I snarled as I summoned my mace, starting to panic a little. 

"Peace, Demon," the Witch said calmly. She turned her attention to the charred, shuddering mess in her arms, dissmissing me. 

"Put him down, Zanna," I growled, "before I slice your arms off and make you!" 

"That can wait, Antioch. For now..." 

Zanna closed her eyes. At first, nothing happened; but then, a faint, colorless light began to sprout from Atticus' wounds, from his empty eye socket to his torn and missing limbs. We all stared in amazement as the light gradually grew, forming itself into the likeness of his arm and leg and covering every inch of exposed skin. Atticus stopped shaking and began to relax as his  pained expression lifted. He met Zanna's eyes when the process was finally over. 

"Thank you..." he breathed, still looking very weak but also relieved. Zanna simply nodded before laying him on the ground. She knelt beside him and took the bird skull necklace from his hand that he had been gripping so tightly all this time. 

"Take care, young one," she said softly as she slipped it around his neck, "I am sorry." 

She abruptly disappeared before any of us could ask what she meant.

I snapped out of my surprise and pushed through the others to get to Atticus.  
"Kid! Atticus, are you-" 

I was cut off midsentence as the door to the cottage suddenly slammed open with a bang. I saw a brief flash of movement before I was blown back and slammed into the wall opposite the door, held there by some invisible pressure. Before I or anyone else could react, a familiar cloud of black and acid green shot through the opening and rocketed toward me, slamming into me with brutal force. I gagged as a rope of shadow encircled my neck and tightened, choking off my breath and nearly crushing my throat. I dimly heard shouting from the others, followed by more loud bangs and cries of shock as they too were picked up and shoved against the walls around the room, trapped and held there by extensions of the same darkness that was suffocating me.

As the shadow before me gradually solidified, I found myself staring into a pair of bright green irises suspended in pools of deep pitch. 

"Top of the mornin' to ya, laddies," Sean grinned. 

"S-Sean..." I rasped out. His neon eyes flashed dangerously before he tightened his grip on my throat, leaving me completely unable to breath. 

"It's JACK now," he snarled, his words glitchy and distorted. I tried to reach for my power as darkness began to gather along the edge of my vision, but I couldn't clear my head enough to get a proper hold. I had nearly gone completely limp when Sean's- when Jack's grip suddenly loosened, allowing me to draw a desperate and almost painful breath of fresh air into my tortured lungs. 

"Now now, there's no need for that; we don't want to kill both of you, do we?" A new voice asked in amusement. 

My eyes widened at the familiar timbre. I looked up just in time to see a smirking Fell 'iikh saunter through the door, closing it quietly behind him. His laughing  serpentine eyes flashed maliciously as they flicked to each of us in turn.

"Hello again... Outsiders."


	110. 110

Atticus' POV:

I watched in horror from my place on the floor as Anti was accosted by Jack and everyone besides the unconcious Signe and I were thrown against the wall. 

"Hello Again, Outsiders," Fell greeted us casually as he closed the door behind him. His eyes perused the room for a bit before settling on me.   
"Ah... long time no see, Oliver. You look a little worse for wear, my boy." 

"That's not my name," I growled fiercely as I tried to struggle into a sitting position. The proxy limbs that Zanna gave me were awkward and difficult to move, as if my leg and arm were asleep rather than traumatically mutilated. Though I didn't feel any pain in my face and head, my ear and eye were still nonfunctional. 

"Hm. Well it hardly matters, I suppose," Fell said amiably, "Whatever you choose to believe, your role is the same." 

"Let us go, beast!" Mikhail shouted. The 'beast' in question shot him a derogatory glance before rolling his eyes, not bothering to grace the Knight with a verbal acknowledgement. He reached into his pocket and drew out what looked like a large, uncut emerald the size of a grown man's fist before slowly approaching me.

 

A vicious shot of adrenaline blasted through my veins as he drew closer, strong enough that I was finally able to push myself to my feet despite the imbalance caused by my new limbs.

"Stay away from him!!" Antioch screamed before Jack tsked and slapped a hand over his mouth. Threats and cursed from the others accompanying his own cry. Fell simply raised an eyebrow and lifted his finger to his lips.

"Shhhh..."

"In the next second, each of their mouths were forced shut, bringing their protests to an abrupt halt. Fell smirked as they struggled before continuing to walk in my direction, thoroughly enjoying the look of defiant rage on my face. Knowing that there was no way of avoiding whatever he planned to do to me, I drew my shoulders back and lifted my chin obstinately, glaring steadily into his eyes and making no attempts to escape.   
He stopped just a foot from me. 

"So brave..." he mused, "So willing to martyr yourself. And for what, Oliver Saul?" 

My glare deepened at the subtle jab that came with my original name.   
"Don't call me tha-" 

My words devolved into a shrill scream of agony as Fell suddenly raised the hand holding the green shard and thrust it into my chest before immediately ripping his hand back. Every muscle in my body seized up violently as I was lifted up into the air, struggling and lashing out as I dangled. A horrifically painful burning sensation began to build in my chest, following the jagged rock as it gradually passed straight through me, pushing past the muscle, bone, and sinew as if it wasn't even there. 

Fell calmly stepped around to stand behind my thrashing body and laid a hand on my back, right over the epicenter of the searing, unbearable pain. And then, all at once, it was over just as suddenly as it started. I felt a final burning pulse as something exited my back, presumably falling into Fell's hand. 

I fell limp as the torture finally ceased, fading away into a numb throbbing in my chest and spine. My feet hit the floor and I swayed unsteadily for a moment before falling backwards. Fell gripped my upper arm, catching me before I hit the floor. 

"Steady, boy; you've done well," he said as he lowered me to the ground. I weakly lifted my trembling right hand to my chest to assess the damage, only to find that there was none; Other than the rip in my shirt where the jagged crystal had entered me, there was no hole, no blood, not even a scar. 

What had he done to me?

Fell regarded me silently for another moment or two before turning away and heading towards the back wall... straight towards Jericho. 

"Agh... No! Stay-- stay away from her!!" I yelled weakly as I forced myself up to my hands and knees, my voice hoarse from my recent screams. Fell ignored me, focusing instead on Jericho. 

He chuckled as he took in her murderous glare. When he spoke, there was laughter in his voice.  
"Hello, little thing." 

With that, he once again lifted the Emerald and placed it against her chest. Jericho gave a muffled cry as it began to glow, bathing the room in an eerie green light. Dark snarled in fury and thrashed against his invisible bonds as Jericho went limp and passed out from the pain. 

Fell grinned wickedly and retracted his hand to examine the crystal that now shone a bright cerulean blue Intead of its original emerald hue. 

 

He glanced at Dark.   
"Don't look so glum, old friend. I no longer have any use for your bound; be glad that I let her live." He turned back to me after savoring Dark's silent wrath for a  moment. 

"Poor little orphan Oliver... still waiting for his happy ending." 

"That's not... my name," I managed to whisper. I was still crouched on the floor with my good knee to the ground and my ghostly left foot planted firmly as I panted and shook, leaning forward slightly on my knee to prevent myself from falling over. Fell chuckled as he approached, apparently finding my struggle amusing.

"Yes, that's what you tell yourself, isn't it? To convince yourself that you've changed, to deny your scars, to make yourself believe that you can somehow run away from your past."   
He took a knee in front of me, mimicking my position. I winced as he reached out and gripped the nape of my neck, yanking my head back.   
"But you can't. You can never fully escape from who you were born to be, Oliver." 

"THAT'S NOT HIS FUCKING NAME!! LET GO OF ME!!" 

My eyes widened in shock at Anti's sudden roar. How had he been able to speak? Was it simply through pure rage that allowed him to  break Fell's hold over him?  
I was only able to listen as Fell tightened his hold, forcing me to keep my head in place. I heard Jack grunt as both he and his nemisis struggled for control. Fell simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the commotion.

"Jack..." he said in a warning tone. 

"Fine," the turncoat answered in a clipped tone. I saw a rush of black, blue, and green burst through the door, ripping it off its hinges and sending it flying. The clouds promptly disappeared from sight, though I could still feel the  shockwaves of energy from their battle, jarring in their intensity. Dammit! I had to help him! 

I struggled desperately against Fell's hold, clawing at his arm and hand. Fell simply frowned in annoyance at my efforts before standing abruptly, taking me with him so that I was dangling from his grasp with only my weak hold on his arm for support.   
Fell glanced around the room at the others as I fought to lessen the agonizing strain he was putting on my aching neck and head. 

"What say we make this conversation a little more private?" He muttered. He lifted his free hand and snapped his fingers, and just like that, everyone in the room fell unconcious and dropped to the floor, sleeping like the dead. I cringed as Chica and the ravens tumbled down awkwardly; Chica's limbs splayed out in an uncomfortable position, and it was clear that the white raven's wing was broken from his previous impact with the wall. 

I returned my gaze to Fell, glaring heatedly into his wicked eyes as he smiled cordially at me. 

"Now, where were we... Oliver?" He asked softly.

My mind went blank with rage as I finally snapped.


	111. 111

Atticus' POV:

"Now, where were we ...Oliver?" Fell hissed, the teasing glint in his eye making it clear that he was provoking me on purpose. 

It worked a little too well. 

A righteous anger like I'd never felt before overcame me as he uttered that hated name one last time. My vision tunnelled and wavered. I began to shake as every muscle in my body tensed. My blood roared loudly in my ears as a violent surge of energy exploded through my spirit, so intense that I could feel my body temperature begin to rise almost feverishly. My weakness drained away as I was inundated with a bout of inexplicable, incredible power. Fell's face quickly lost its humor as I shot to my feet and stood tall once more, controlling my new limbs with ease.

"That's not my FUCKING NAME!" I screamed, thrusting both of my hands in Fell's direction. 

"THRYSTA!!" 

 

A blast of shockingly purple light exploded from my palms in the form of some sort of circular seal, inlaid with unfamiliar scrawlings and alien designs. Fell's eyes widened measurably as the blast approached him. I didn't have the chance to savor his shock for more than a moment before he dissolved into a burst of gilded smoke at the last possible second, allowing the burning light to shoot straight through him. It collided disapointingly with the wall behind him, etching its likeness deep into the wood with artful, smoldering scorch marks as it faded away. 

I stood panting as Fell reformed, feeling a little woozy from my costly expension. When he'd fully solidified, he was facing away from me, focusing intently on the smoky brand that my attack left behind. 

"Extraordinary..." he murmured, so softly that I just barely caught it. I shook off the last of my vertigo and managed to compose myself by the time he turned around. 

"I would try to persuade you to join me," Fell said as he regarded me casually, "but I very much doubt that you'd turn, if what I've seen of you so far is anything to go by." 

I said nothing. 

"Indeed, the stars always seem to have other plans," he continued softly, as if to himself. Then he spoke up.   
"You would know, wouldn't you?" 

I drew my shoulders back and glared at him with disdain.   
"I don't rely on anything in life but my intelligence and will to survive. I've never been controlled by silly fantasies like destiny or fate," I said coldly, "my world was, is, and always will be broken; yet my life is my own. It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my own choice," I quoted.

The Demon's eyes narrowed slightly as he examined me, as if seeing me in a new light.   
"Very wise, Atticus. Even for you," he praised. "In your case, however... I'm afraid that's just not true." 

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. "Meaning?" I demanded. 

"I'm sure that you think that the paths you travel are yours to choose. Such a comforting notion that would be to a boy who was a prisoner for half his life," Fell explained with a cold serpent's smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
"But the truth, young Atticus, is that you've been led, Pulled through life like a dog on a leash. You'll see it soon."

My power began to swell within me once more at his condescending tone.   
"Oh, trust me; I've seen enough." 

My proxy limbs began to glow as they were flooded with the excess energy caused by my chaotic emotions.  
"Like I said, beast; my world is already broken. It has been and always will be. I've been through hell and back, stripped of my pride, my dignity, and my purpose, over and again until all that was left was my will. The will to save others from the same fate. From abominations like my father and YOU!! FERA!!"

Fell once again evaded my attack, leaping out of the way just in time to avoid the blast of brilliant orange flame that was aimed at him.

 

He glanced over his shoulder to see the massive hole I'd blasted through the wall before whipping his wary gaze back towards me.

Now I had his full attention.

"I would kill a thousand men and a thousand more before I would have one make me his slave!" I snarled as we began to slowly circle one another.  
"I will bring your kingdom to its knees and raze your throne with fire! I will make your world shake and shatter at my fingertips!!"  
FERA SERIS!"

A violent storm of what looked like tiny, burning meteorites was ejected from my hands, like a rapid fire machine gun. This time, once he was out of my way, I sprinted towards the hole I'd made and leapt out into the open air, hoping to take the fight outside and away from my unconscious friends. I turned back to face him as he followed me into the open field in shadow form. I raised my hands that were still enchanted by my last words, following him with a heavy stream of fire blasts as he ducked and jumped, growling in frustration as he dodged in anyway he could. I continued to attack as I spoke:

"I won't stop until my name is spoken only in fearful whispers, as a poison on your tongue!"  
My voice rose as my anger grew.  
"I will never bend! I will never break! I will NEVER BOW TO YOU! MY NAME IS ATTICUS!!"

I charged as I screamed my denial, intent on having his blood soak the ground.

I was careless. 

I didn't realize how foolish it was to attempt a close range battle with Fell until it was too late; he knocked me aside with a swift flick of his wrist, sending me flying through the air. My back and head struck the cabin with brutal force, stealing my breath and leaving me gagging for air on the ground. Fell was standing over me in the next instant.   
He delivered a vicious kick to my ribs when I tried to push to my feet, forcing me to my back. He placed his foot on my chest and a threatening tendril of shadow against my neck to stop my struggles.

"Don't try it, boy," Fell said coldly. "Stay down and live to end me another day, when you are older and stronger. You'll never have the chance to seek your justice if you die now."

"I swear to God I'm going to-" I snarled, but stopped when he pressed down brutally with his foot, cutting off my air. 

"Quiet," he said simply, "it's my turn. Maybe you won't bend, Atticus, maybe you won't break... but your mortal bones certainly will."

He remained there with his foot pressing into my clavicle for a few more moments. The pressure combined with the lack of breath became extremely painful. Blackness had just begun to creep into the edges of my vision when he finally stepped back, allowing me to gulp in heaves of much needed air. 

"The freedom I afford you is a generous length of rope," he warned. "Take care that you don't end up hanging yourself with it." 

He regarded me silently for a moment.   
"But for now, all I require of you is your ears."


	112. 112

Atticus' POV:

"But for now, all I require of you is your ears," Fell said. "The time has come for you to know..."   
He reached his hand into his pocket and drew out the large cerulian shard, holding it up for me to see.   
"Do you know what this is?"

"A bloody rock," I coughed hoarsely, my throat and chest still aching. I rolled to my side and propped myself up on my remaining elbow to glare at him.  
"What of it?" 

Fell chuckled softly and shook his head. "No... look closer. You can do it," he encouraged. I ground my teeth together at his almost kindly tone, but managed to hold my tongue. I examined the gemstone in his hand. 

The feeling I was hit with was one that was becoming increasingly familiar to me. I'd grown uncomfortably used to the odd sensation of seeing one thing and feeling something completely different.  
In the Los Angeles airport with Anti, I'd known that the dark space we entered was a portal before we'd even crossed the threshold.  
The night before the House gathering, I'd somehow know exactly what words to use to get the result I wanted.   
When I looked at Celine's jewlery, I saw the intricate cage that bound the ravens to her. 

And now, the closer I examined the bright blue stone, the more certainly I knew...

"It's ...A door. A locked door," I said finally. Not even I fully understood where my answer had come from, but Fell nodded in agreement.

"Such a Clever boy," he praised with a slow smile.

"This is the prize I was after all these years: the Dark Shard," He whispered, reverently cradling the stone in hands. Then his eyes met mine again.  
"I trust that you know the story, Atticus? Of how the humans overcame the Paranormals, how the Demons fell and Druids parished?" 

As annoying as his pedantry was, I decided to go with it; it was better than going head to head with something thousands of times my age.   
"Yes," I nodded, my expression carefully neutral, "Antioch told me." 

The Demon arched a single eyebrow when I said Antioch's name.

"Antioch, hm? Not Anti? How interesting," Fell murmured before continuing, "There's so much that you don't know, child... shall I enlighten you?" He offered smoothly.   
A wide grin grew on his face at my hesitant nod.

"Perfect." 

He snapped his fingers.


	113. 113

Atticus' POV:

After a brief shock of cold that made me cringe and shut my eyes, I opened them to find myself standing beside Fell in an unfamiliar setting. The room we were standing in was musty and cramped and looked as if it hadn't  been touched by any human presence in at least a decade. A thick layer of dust covered the tools that lined the walls, most of which would normally be used for mundane wood or metal work. I knew better, though. 

An unconcious woman with long silver hair and a haunting resemblance to Jericho was strapped tightly to an old, splintered wood table in the center of the room. It was clear she had quite recently been through hell, with fresh blood leaking from bruises and cuts on her face and body.  

Just then realizing how close I was standing to Fell, I quickly took a couple of steps away from him and towards the broken down door. 

"Where did you take us?" I asked flatly, letting no fear show through my voice or face. I was a stone, and would remain so as long as it took to keep him from having the satisfaction.

"That's only half the question," Fell smiled.  
"It's not just where I've taken us, but when. I'm assuming I don't need to explain who that is?" He asked, indicating the unconcious woman with a casual jerk of his head.

"...No," I answered after a moment. I knew exactly who the woman was: Anjali Apeshka herself, Human champion and Druid traitor.

Fell nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Ah, The show is starting!" He said brightly. His gaze was fixated on something in the doorway, just over my shoulder.

I doubled over in a vicious cringe, gagging on the bile rising in my throat as I was assaulted by a feeling of extreme nausea, so intense that I actually saw stars. I looked up to see that Fell was walking away from me and towards the table. Had he just walked through me? 

No. Wait. 

I straightened quickly and looked over at where Fell- the one that had transported us there- was lounging against the wall, looking greatly amused. I remembered what he'd said moments before about the question of when as well as where... and it hit me.

"Figured it out yet?" Fell inquired smugly. I nodded, refusing to say anything more; I was having a hard enough time keeping my jaw off the floor as it was. Time travel...

"Mmm no, It's not what you're probably thinking," he supplied without my asking, "Just a little recording from the genius mind of yours truly."   
He tapped his head with a smirk, "You're witnessing my memories, live and uncut... and unrated. pay close attention now; this is about to get good."

Still saying nothing, I forced myself to turn back to the scene I was here to witness despite the pit that formed in my stomach as I did so. Past Fell was leaning over the table, looking down at Anjali's sleeping face with an unsettling, dispassionate air. I watched tensely as he lifted his hand and brought it to her forehead, his fingers spread wide. He moved his fingertips downward and passed them over her face, just a breath away from her skin. 

I almost flinched as Anjali's eyes flew open with a loud gasp and immediately began struggling against her bonds. They must have been enchanted somehow, because she was getting nowhere. She belatedly noticed Fell through her hysteria and stilled, though her body still shivered with Adrenaline and an animal fear that I recognized from my own run-ins with my father. My heart clenched; I wanted to help, to save her despite all she'd done... yet I knew that this had likely happened weeks ago, directly after Anti came back from the battle I'd waited out in the hotel room in Tomatain.

"Where am I? What have you done, you monster?!" Anjali demanded hoarsely. She cringed away as Fell reached out to brush her hair away from her face. He completely disregarded her question, proceeding as if she hadn't spoken. 

"You've caused me more trouble over the years than you're worth, dear Anjali. You're a difficult woman to find." 

"Answer me!!"

"Come now, does it really matter?" Fell asked with an almost pitying quirk of his lips.

He turned and moved away unhurriedly to pick something up off the floor and set it down next to her head. It was an ornate wooden box, inscribed with sharp, runic designs that I instantly disliked.

"The outcome will be the same whether you get your answer or not," he said as he slowly flicked open the clasps and reached in. "We'll finally attain what's rightfully ours, and you..."

He drew out a long, pale blue dagger. 

"...You will die."

"Oh no..." I whispered, horrified by the knowledge of what was about to unfold. 

"Oh yes," the Fell observing with me hissed.   
"Don't look away now, Atticus; this is the best part."

I ignored him and turned away anyway, shutting my eyes tightly and clapping my hands over my ears like a small child during  a thunderstorm. I ground my teeth together, grimacing as my ears were assaulted by Anjali's panicked screams of agony. I felt those hated tears gather in my eyes when her screams turned into groans, and eventually into gags as she began to struggle for breath. Whatever horrors were happening behind me went on for at least two unbearably long minutes.

And then at last, after an eternity... it stopped. Relief washed over me as silence pervaded the room, and I finally dropped my hands from my ears with a small sigh. I felt Fell's eyes burning into me from off to the side and turned my eyes on him in a murderous glare. 

"Damn you to the fires of hell, Demon..." I hissed, injecting every ounce of venom I had in me into the curse. Fell didn't react but to cock his head and smile.

"Where do you think I came from?" He asked lightly.


	114. 114

Atticus' POV:

Of all the travesties I'd ever witnessed, this had been by far the most tragic. And that was really saying something, especially considering the fact that I technically didn't even see her being tortured. All I'd done was listen to her choke on her own blood.   
I was doing my absolute best to hold myself back from charging Fell; I wanted nothing more at that moment than to wrap my hands around his wretched neck, but I knew that while we were in his mind and memories, we'd be playing by his rules. 

"Aw, are you mad at me?" Fell asked with a melodramatic expression of shock. He then dropped his obvious facade in favor of a knowing smile.   
"You shouldn't be. I knew what you were from the beginning, Atticus." 

"I'm well aware of my heritage," I ground out stiffly. 

"No, no, not your Alchemy," Fell said, wisking a hand through the air dismissively, "I actually only found out about that quite recently. I'm talking about you, Atticus." 

He pushed off the wall he was leaning on and turned fully towards me. "I saw it plain as day the first time we met. I smelled your fear and your fierce denial of it. I sensed the lust for my own blood screaming from your veins. I saw the look of calm calculation in your angry little eyes as you sought a way to turn the tide in your favor." 

He grinned again, showcasing his teeth. "I saw myself in you that day. You were born to spill blood, boy." 

I clenched my fists tightly and fought down the sickening wave of nausea that rolled over me at the very thought. I took a moment to calm my anger before I spoke. 

"You're right."

Fell's eyebrows rose in surprise. 

"You're right... to a point," I continued, "I met evil when I was only a child. I callously rectified one unforgivable sin with another and will carry that weight with me to my grave. At some point in all our lives, our human side loses; it has to. After all, how can one kill a monster without becoming one himself?" 

Fell remained silent, listening to my words with a passive interest. 

"I've lied, cheated, and stole for the sake of my own survival, and fucked over more people than I care to admit with no remorse. You're right; We both became what we felt we had to for our own reasons... but there's a difference." 

"And what's that?" Fell inquired curiously. 

"The difference," I answered, "is that I want there to be a difference. I don't want the same power over others that my father supposed he had over me. I have no desire to control, and no desire to take. But if I have to sin to save another's virtue, if I'm forced to kill to save a life... if it keeps just one person from dirtying their own heavy soul, then so be it." 

I turned my head away from him and back towards the door I was standing in front of. 

"I'll be a monster if I'm called to be." 

Fell didn't speak for a moment. Instead, he did something I never would have expected: 

He screamed. 

I turned to him in shock, only to see him once again leaning against the wall, looking calmly forward. Realizing that he wasn't the Fell who had screamed, I turned around slowly to look back at the memory he'd brought me here to see. 

The Fell from weeks before was clutching the table with a harsh, white-knuckled grip, fairly shaking with rage as he glared at his captive. A faint smile graced her face, pained and bloody though it was, and a gleam of triumph shone in her eyes. She didn't flinch when Fell snarled and slammed his fist onto the table right beside her head. 

"No... no! It's not here! damn you, They're not here!!" He snarled. Anjali's smile widened into a grin that revealed her bloody teeth.

"Ha... ha," she mocked softly, drawing another growl from Fell. 

"Where did you hide them, you-" he stopped, and his face lit up in understanding.   
"Jericho. The runes are in your vessel," he murmured. He smiled as his serpentine eyes narrowed  into dangerous slits.   
"Oh, you think you're clever, don't you? But I have it figured out, anjali. It will be a simple matter to find her again..." he purred. 

Anjali coughed out a weak laugh. "Go ahead, darling. Let's see if you can figure out what to do with them," she whispered hoarsely. 

Fell's smile dropped. His eyes turned cold.  
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" He asked stonily. 

Anjali didn't answer. In fact, she didn't react at all, didn't move or even breath. My stomach turned when I realized... 

Fell pushed off the table with a curse.   
"Rigged to self destruct," he muttered. "Of course you would. That's just like you isn't it, you spiteful creature; fucking me over even from beyond the veil. It's almost enough to impress me. But with this..." 

He held up a bloody stone that I instantly recognized as the dark shard Fell presently had in his possession, "As long I have the cage, I know that it's possible to open." 

Before I could react, the past Fell dissolved and shot out the door, once again going right through me to get there. I gagged again at the sickening sensation and cursed myself for not moving earlier. I straightened to find myself standing in the midst of an empty black void. The darkness that surrounded me was uncomfortable and oppressive, and I had to force myself not to run aimlessly away. 

"So." 

I turned to see Fell standing a few feet behind me. I backed up once again, not keen on keeping him in close quarters. 

"What did we learn?" He asked me conversationally.   
"I'm curious to see how much you gathered from that little exchange." 

I looked down thoughtfully, taking a moment to consider all that I'd seen and heard before deigning to give an answer. 

"You wrongly assumed that both the shard and the runes were hidden within Anjali," I began slowly.   
"You separated your target from her vessel to get a shot at her, only to discover that she was just half the puzzle. The curse Anjali cast was designed to dole itself into two parts, probably in the hope you would assume exactly what you did. She expected you to kill her host when you no longer needed her and, if I had to guess, that would have destroyed the key forever and ended the cycle of reincarnation for good." 

I looked back up. "Am I correct so far?"

He nodded his acquiescence.    
"Not bad. What else?

I continued,  "You just extracted the runes from Jericho, so you must be planning to activate it soon."   
I stopped and fixed him with an iron glare.   
"You do know that you won't get your true power back or undo the Demon's binding to the humans? This won't play out like you think. You won't win!" I declared. I became uneasy when Fell simlly chuckled. 

"Oh, I know that very well," he said smoothly.    
"Why would you ever think I wouldn't know, after all these years chasing her? No... I was never after either of those things, boy. Nor do I care about the lost druid sisters that my wily bound trapped."

My head spun with confusion.   
"Wait... Then why...?

"I hate explaining myself," Fell sighed with an exasperated eyeroll. 

"You can't have brought me here for any reason but to do just that!" I snapped angrily, "Why are you doing all of this if you've nothing to gain? If it's solely for vengeance, I expected more from you."

He laughed scathingly. "Nothing to gain?" He scoffed, "Think outside the box, boy! The Druids weren't the only things Anjali was battling all those millennia ago, and my power wasn't the only thing she stole. Nor was I the only one she stole from."

My blood ran cold as I realized very quickly what he wanted. 

"You... want to go back to the way things were. To the darkness, Before the humans revolted."   
I stared into his smug face with growing shock and horror.   
The other... things that Anjali trapped...

"You're going to release them."


	115. 115

Anti's POV:

Looking back on it now, I honestly couldn't tell you who was wrong or right. But that's how all wars start, isn't it? Two sides, be it one person or an entire nation, each believing that their cause is unequivocally just. In the span of nearly two thousand long years, I'd seen regimes rise and fall, witnessed entire kingdoms disenigrate... I'd even joined in a couple of the frays, whether by the default of my vessel, or by my own choice to satisfy my own sick bloodlust.

For the longest time, it was all fun and games for me. I didn't really give a shit about morals or any just cause; the only thing driving me was the desire to use my own power, to prove to myself that I was capable of committing the travesties that I did. My rivalry with Sean- with Jack- was the first battle that I had something worth fighting for, something I truly believed in with every fiber of my being. 

But like I said; it took me a long time to realize that in war, there really is no wrong or right. It was the belief driving each side that fed the fire. I had changed just like Jack had, but one thing remained the same: 

There was no true morality in war.  

Only power.

____________________________________

Anti's POV, present day: 

I was dragged about a half mile into the field by Jack's iron grip, still in light form. No matter how hard I struggled to break his hold and get back to Atticus, it became clear that we were at a stalemate.  
When he finally dropped me, I immediately reformed and shot to my feet, summoning my favorite mace.   
When his dark black and green smoke shot past me solidified around fifteen yards away, we just stood there for a moment, silently sizing each other up. I noticed that his appearance had changed just as much as mine had; his irises were a bright, smoldering acid green enfolded in pitch black scleras. He was wearing a dark hoodie and jeans, and was surrounded by an aura that matched his hateful gaze. It was unbelievably intense, swirling around him in a dark hurricane of smoke, whipping his hair and clothes back and forth. 

Fuck. Me. 

"Nice glow-up, Sunshine," I called out lightly, adjusting my grip on my mace, "Did you get a makeover from Hot Topic?" 

"I learned from the best," he responded flatly. I almost shuddered at his cold tone and emotionless face; it wasn't human.

"God dammit," I muttered under my breath, averting my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him.   
"Why?" I asked softly. I put a hand to my forehead and closed my eyes in... what, frustration? Grief? Fuck if I knew. 

"Why are you doing this, man?!" I shouted, throwing down my mace, "You're supposed to be better than me! You're supposed to be good!!" 

He didn't say a word. I looked up, my aura flaring in rage. 

"FUCKING ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!!" I screamed, "SAY SOMETHING!!"

Silence. 

"Please," I pleaded, softer now. 

In the next instant, he was suddenly right in front of me. His hand shot out before I could react, backhanding me hard enough to send me flying off to the side. Then, while I was still in the air, he was beside me with his hand gripping my neck. I gagged as he slammed me back to the ground head first.   
My vision went almost completely black for a moment before finally clearing up. As soon as it did, I was met with a pair of gleaming neon eyes just inches from my own. 

"And just what the fuck do you want me to say?" He hissed bitterly.   
"You want me to start crying about my feelings? You wanna pour me a cup of cocoa and talk it out?"

"M-Maybe," I gritted out hoarsely. It was hard to speak with his hand crushing my throat. He snarled and picked me up slightly, only to shove me back to the ground, this time grinding his knee into my chest. 

"How 'bout we talk about you?" He suggested coldly, "About everything that you took from me? Let's count them down, shall we?"   
He pretended to think for a moment before abruptly standing and replacing his knee with his foot. I cringed and grabbed it to try to lessen the pressure, but he was too strong.  
Sean looked up as if he was completely ignoring me. He raised his hand and casually ticked his fingers down one by one. 

"My security..."   
He began to gradually increase the pressure as he spoke.  
"My happiness..."   
I felt the strain on my collar bone as he spoke and struggled harder.   
"My fiancee..."   
Dark spots began to flood my vision as it became more difficult to breathe.  
"My life." 

I cried out through clenched teeth as my collarbone finally gave out with an audible snap. I closed my eyes tightly to distract myself from the pain only to open them wide again as he removed his foot and reached down to grip my jaw tightly. He kneeled over me and jerked me up so that his nose was inches from mine. 

"I've searched for you tirelessly ever since the night you shattered my life," he sneered.   
"It was because of you that I wasted my life as a hunter. It was you who forced me to wade further into the darkness just to get closer to you. It was you who created me, who made me as I am now! and now you're asking me WHY?! 

Jack let out a snarl and stood, flinging me away from him. I once again dissolved before I hit the ground, reforming in a defensive stance with my mace at the ready. I observed him warily, forcing myself to ignore my throbbing chest. 

"Once again..." Jack whispered. 

"What the fuck do you want  me to say, Anti?"


	116. 116

Atticus' POV: 

"You're going to release them," I whispered in horror. Fell grinned.

"There it is. Very good, Atticus; you're as bright as always," he praised before lifting his hand and once again snapping his fingers. 

Then we were suddenly back where we began, standing in the field just outside the cabin. My legs buckled as I grew dizzy from the mental whiplash, but I managed to stay on my feet. I groaned and shook my head to clear it as Fell waited patiently. 

"But you haven't done anything with it yet..." I said finally.   
"There's more to the story, isn't there?"

Fell nodded. "Yes. And this story was never Jericho's, or even mine... it was always yours," he said with a sly smile. 

I narrowed my eyes. "And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, only for Fell to hold up his hand and shake his head in a placating gesture. 

"In due time, boy. All in due time. For now, I'll bide mine; you know all that you need to."

I was silent for a moment. "...Then go. Just know that when you return... we'll be ready," I swore fiercely. 

"The same goes for me. I look forward to our reunion, Atticus," he said with a smirk. I lowered my head as my eyes darkened in a glare.

"Thrysta." 

Though there was no magic burst of light this time, Fell was still blown back a couple feet. It was more of a warning shot than an attack, but it was still satisfying to see him thrown off balance.   
Unsurprisingly, he allowed the magic to strike him, knowing that it wasn't powerful enough by design. He grinned and dissolved before he even stumbled back more than a foot, shooting away from me and into the field in a vicious streak of black and gold. 

I watched him fly away for a moment before noticing two figures standing about a kilometer off in the same direction. One was surrounded by an insidious green and black light, while the other was a pure, bright blue. 

"Antioch," I muttered softly before sprinting after Fell. 

Third person POV: 

Back in the cabin, Signe Hansen slowly began to awaken, blinking rapidly to clear her blurred vision. 

"Fuuuuuck... I feel like this is the world's worst hangover..." she slurred, clutching her aching head.   
"What the hell happ-" 

She suddenly stopped cold before shooting upright in the bed, eyes wide in abject shock and horror. She quickly forgot her oncoming migraine, instead focusing on a point far beyond the entrance of the unfamiliar cabin. 

"Sean..."


	117. 117

Anti's POV:

I didn't answer. I had no idea what I wanted him to say, or what to say myself. All I could do was just stand there, staring at him as he was swallowed by his own rage. Nothing had really changed between us, had it? No, We were still enemies, same as before; except the moment I'd found myself and walked into the light, he'd lost his own soul to the darkness. And you know what? He was right; It was my fault. 

Jack's eyes flicked away from me slightly, his attention drawn to something over my shoulder. He looked back at me, raising a single eyebrow. 

"Well look who it is... the prodigy," he said bemusedly.   
"Sup, little Einstein?"

My blood ran cold with dread. 

Atticus.

I whirled around to see the kid dashing towards us at full speed, nearly flying as he ran. He was following a familiar cloud of gilded smoke too closely for my comfort. The dark nimbus split in two as it approached, both sides missing me by mere inches. I glared at Fell as he shot past and reformed to stand by Jack, looking smug as always, before turning my attention back to the kid.

"Antioch!"

"No! Atticus, stop!" I shouted, prompting him to skid to a halt about ten yards away.   
"Stay back!" 

"But-" he started to protest, but I cut him off.

"I mean it; This isn't your fight, kid," I said sharply. He obviously didn't like it, but he stayed where he was. Relieved, I turned to face my foes once more.

"Very noble of you, Anti," Fell remarked. 

"And very stupid," Jack added cuttingly.  
"That brat's more powerful than you'll ever be... even if he is down a couple limbs." 

My aura flared high with indignant rage. "Shut it. Never call him anything but his name," I snarled fiercely. "I may deserve your hate, but he doesn't. 

"Hm. Are you ready to go?" Fell asked Jack. The turncoat in question cracked his neck loudly before advancing forward. 

"Yeah; I've just got some unfinished business to take care of," he answered darkly. 

An explosion of rose gold light appeared in front of Jack, stopping him in his tracks. He growled and reflexively began to draw his bow...

And stopped cold.

"Signe," he breathed. The shock on his face was the first emotion besides anger that I'd witnessed from him so far. 

The Witch crossed her arms and neither flinched nor backed away from the arrow at her throat.   
"Am I just unfinished business to you? Or were you just going to leave without a word to me?" She demanded angrily.

Jack recovered from his surprise and slowly lowered his bow. His expression was unreadable, his eyes stone cold.   
"...You wouldn't understand," he said finally. 

Signe's eyes flashed with anger.   
"Oh, I wouldn't understand?" She parroted incredulously, "You can't be serious. You think I don't understand loss? Betrayal? Abandonment? Do you really think that I don't know exactly what you're going through?!" She shouted. 

"Yes! Because you fucking don't!" Jack yelled, his anger returning. Signe's eyes softened. 

"Sean... what about me? I... I loved you," she whispered tearfully. Jack stiffened and turned his back on her, looking down. 

"You don't know me, Signe. And if you didn't see this coming... then You never really did," he spat bitterly. 

I almost flinched at the look on Signe's face.

"Oh, I know enough," she hissed, her voice deadly soft.  
"I know that you're a traitor. I know that you're just one more asshole who's gonna leave me Like all the rest. You weren't the first, Irish, and you won't be the last."

"..." 

"I know I don't own you," she continued, "I can't stop you from turning your back on me and the rest of the people who love you. But pay attention mother fucker, cause I'm only gonna say this once: 

"This your last free pass. If you walk away from me right now, I will hunt. you. down. And when I find you, I swear I'm going to tear your heart right out of your chest... just like you did mine, you son of a bitch. And that's a God damn promise."

There was a moment of silence in the wake of her words. Though I could only see Jack's back, I could tell that her vicious words had hit him hard.   
I was shocked; I didn't think that she was even capable of having that much venom. If I were Jack... I would have been running for my life.

Fell didn't react, taking her words in stride. He smoked out without a word, flying off into the distance. Jack didn't follow, and for a moment, I thought he might actually stay. But then: 

"...Goodbye, Signe." 

He burst into shadows and shot after Fell without so much as a backward glance, leaving us behind.

For good.

"Goodbye... Jack," The Witch whispered before falling to her knees.


	118. 118

Yo! Gore warning for this chap my dudes. Summary is that they dress Atticus' wounds.   
Alrighty, carry on.   
Also, sorry in advance. 

Signe's POV:

I fell to my knees In complete and utter despair as I watched him follow fell into the distance. I barely felt hand Atticus laid on my shoulder; I was completely numb, body, mind and soul. This was it. It was over. Fell had won, and Sean was gone. 

There was only Jack. 

"Signe... I'm so sor-" Atticus began before his breath caught in his throat. I looked behind me as his hand fell from my shoulder. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath as his proxy limbs flickered weakly and dimmed.   
Anti and I were kneeling at his side in an instant. 

"Atticus!" 

Anti's POV: 

Atticus' words were caught in his throat before he finished. My heart dropped as he fell backwards, hitting the ground hard. 

"Atticus!" I yelled, dashing to kneel beside him.   
"Oh God, Atticus..." 

I had known that Zanna's gift was temporary, but I didn't think that this would happen so soon. His left arm and leg glitched out and flickered faintly before fading completely, revealing his injuries in all their vicious glory. I turned him to his right side to make it easier to breath as my eyes blurred with tears. I'd forgotten just how much that blow from Celine had taken from him; the left side of his face was covered in third degree burns, his eye completely eviscerated. His arm had been ripped off from the elbow down, and worst of all, his entire left leg was missing. 

The only good thing was that there wasn't any bleeding. 

"Signe, do something! I'm not a  healer!" I hissed. She looked at me helplessly. 

"I... I don't know if even I can..." she whispered. 

"The affected skin..." Atticus whispered, shocking us both. He appeared to be in shock, shivering violently and staring off into space; how the fuck was he able to speak?

"Whatever wasn't cauterized by the blast is...  completely necrotic," he rasped, "You'll have to slice.... ugh... the topmost layers off. Not yet corpses; still, we rot..." he breathed weakly before groaning and falling silent. 

"This is not the time to go all Shakespeare on us, kid," I said softly.   
"keep it to yourself; we'll fix this."

"Sh-shut up and... listen for once!" He hissed.   
"You have n-no idea.... what you're d-doing, so... so I'm going to have to... walk you through this... Do you understand?" Atticus demanded fiercely, fighting unconsciousness as he spoke.   
It was incredible; he was weak and shaky and sweating bullets that matted his curly hair to his deathly pale skin as he struggled to keep his eyes open. How he was managing to breath was beyond me, let alone stay cognizant. Even I wouldn't be capable of that. Maybe Jack was right; maybe Atticus was more powerful than me.

"...yeah," I said, trying to calm down, "okay kid, what's first?"

Atticus began thinking the directives to me as it became too difficult too speak.   
"Good. Now take that dagger and start shaving off the loose layers of skin on my shoulder. This is Liquifactive necrosis, which means that it's deeply Cauterized; we have to take off the dead areas or they will begin to rot like a corpse while still attached to my body. After you finish the arm, do my neck and face." 

"Fuck."

I did as he asked after Wiishu performed a numbing hex. unfortunately, for injuries that bad, no amount of numbing agents, magical or otherwise, could keep the process completely painless. I winced as Atticus gave off wave after wave of intense agony; for once I was kind of glad that my years of torturing countless victims had granted me a steady hand. 

"You won't like this next part..."

"I haven't liked any of it so far. 

"My eye suffered a severe globe rupture, but it's  not actually completely eviscerated; You'll need to perform an enucleation by digging into the socket to remove the rest of the damaged nerves." 

He sent me mental images of the process.

"Oh my fucking God."

"Just do it." 

"Okay. Okay, I got this."

This time, Atticus actually screamed inside his head. I grimaced and continued as quickly as I could without harming him further. I had to move fast; he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. The places that I already cut into had started to leak blood, so Signe worked on wrapping them tightly with strips of her own clothes. When it was finally done, we literally had to wrap his entire head and part of his neck, leaving only his right eye showing. 

I picked him up as carefully as I could, hating how light he was.   
"We'll figure this out, Atticus," I whispered, "I promise."

There was no response. I looked down and realized that he had finally passed out. I sighed and started walking back to the cabin as Signe followed, silent and solemn. 

"I promise."


	119. 119

Anti's POV: 

Thirty minutes later, things had settled down quite a bit. It had taken a little under ten minutes for the others to wake up, each of them flying into varying degrees of panic upon remembering where they were before either Signe or I explained the situation. Felix was the last to come to, shaken awake by Marzia.

I was impressed with the way everyone quickly calmed down and set to work, each of them immediately finding ways to make themselves useful. 

Mikhail, Jericho, and Signe were gathered around the bed, using their experience in healing to see to Atticus' battered body while I paced restlessly behind them, unable to sit down. 

Mark, Amy, and Dark were on the other side of the cabin tending to the animals. The white raven had a broken wing that Mark was in the process of setting under Dark's instruction. The black raven, who appeared to be the only animal to escape unscathed, was nuzzling Chica, who's back left leg was being bandaged by Amy.

The motley crew's roster had changed bizarrely in the past hour as well. Aside from the fact that Virgo was now apparently dead and Virgil was M.I.A., we'd apparently gained yet another non-humanoid recruit in the ensuing chaos. 

 

Dark informed us that the black tabby had appeared out of nowhere during our escape through the portal. The Demon had found what he originally assumed was a shifter stowaway clinging to his back for dear life as he ran. When we tried to communicate with it, it just hissed at us and scampered off into the corner of the room and had been there ever since, glowering at us moodily and scratching anyone who tried to get close. 

Well, whatever. I couldn't worry about strays right now; Atticus needed me. 

Virgil's POV: 

"I'm right here, you retarded douche canoes!" 

...Is what I would have said if I still had the vocal capacity to speak. And telepathy was out of the question until I could figure out how the fuck my new brain worked. 

Fan-freaking-tastic.

It had taken me a couple minutes to figure out what my doofy alter ego had turned me into. the embarrassingly high pitched yowling coming from my throat was enough to tip me off: 

A cat. I was a fucking cat. 

It was genius, in a way. My body was unable to sustain itself without melting into dust, so what did he do with Virgo's wish? Made me a new body, a small vessel that wouldn't require a lot of energy to create. My old one was probably trapped back in the now defunct portal, floating somewhere between dimensions. Not that I wasn't grateful just to be alive, but... 

'Any animal. You had your pick of any animal, and you pick a fucking TABBY?' I hissed irritably. 'A fox, a wolverine, a god damn HONEY BADGER would have been better than this!' 

There was no answer from Thomas. Great. 

Just fucking great.

Resigning myself to the colossal inconvenience, I curled up in the corner to wait for everyone to finish their business. 

Mark's POV: 

"You feeling any better, Chica pica?" I asked my friend, motioning to the leg I had just finished wrapping. The retriever looked at her back leg and gave it an experimental shake before wincing and lowering it back to the ground with a growl of discomfort. 

'Ouchie... well, I wouldn't recommend any belly scritches in the near future,' she offered, cocking her head comically. 

That made me chuckle. "Yeah. We'll give your leg a rest for now." 

"Aaaaand... done!" Amy chimed triumphantly, sitting back to proudly observe her handiwork. I peeked over her shoulder to see that she had finished wrapping up the white raven's wing. The black raven hopped over to affectionately nuzzle his face into his brother's neck. Aw... 

"That's that," Amy sighed before turning to see how everyone else was faring. "So much pain in one room... you think he's gonna be okay?" She asked, motioning to where Wiishu, Mikhail, and Jericho were hovering over the bed on the other side of the cabin. 

"Who, Atticus? Oh hell yeah, he'll be fine! He's a stubborn lil' squirt," I assured her confidently with a grin, hoping to lift her spirits. I was happy to see her give a small smile in return.  

"I know. And what about you?" She asked carefully. 

I looked away, not really knowing how to answer that. I knew why she'd asked; I might not have been injured physically, but on the inside... I was reeling, almost out of my mind with grief. Sean's betrayal had hit me harder than anything else I'd encountered on this journey. My heart tightened so sharply that I felt like it was literally being ripped right out of my chest. 

"I honestly don't know," I admitted softly, unable to muster up anything more than a whisper. I ran a hand through Chica's fur as she whined. "It's always been one of my greatest fears, losing the people I love. I didn't think that there could be anything worse than having to attend a funeral for a friend, but this... God, this is so much worse."

I closed my eyes and leaned into Amy's embrace as she wrapped her arms around me, allowing my tears to fall on her shoulder.  

"We'll find him, Mark," she murmured. 

"We'll bring him back."


	120. 120

Felix's POV:

When I woke up, the first thing I did was close my eyes. 

Everything was painfully blurry and bright, and I had a migraine like the world's worst tequila hangover. My ears were ringing so damn bad, I thought for a second I'd gone deaf.   
Keeping my eyes shut, I groaned and rolled over onto my back, wincing as my bones creaked conspicuously. 

'Fuck. Am I that old?'

I once again attempted to lift my eyelids, only to have them forced shut as I reflexively flinched away from the light. Ugh. Fuck that. Fuck seeing things. Who needed eyes anyway?

Especially considering the kind of things I'd been seeing lately. 

"Felix. Felix, get up!"

'Who is that? She sounds familiar... and pissed.'

"I know you're awake, Felix. Pull yourself together!" Snapped the beautiful voice again. This time, her words were accompanied by a sharp slap to the side of my head. 

"Ow..."

"I'm warning you, broccolo..." the woman threatened. 

Broccolo...? Oh. Now I remembered why I needed to open my eyes; if I didn't, my girlfriend would probably threaten to gouge them out herself. Taking her not-so-subtle hint, I cracked my eyelids open. 

"It's about damn time, Felix," Marzia murmured with a smirk. She was kneeling on the floor next to me in full armor, her unmasked face just inches from mine. She sat up when she saw that I was truly awake.   
"Why am I dating such a lazy boy?" She wondered aloud teasingly. 

I grinned. "'Cause you love me," I told her smugly, drawing a chuckle from her as she helped me up off the floor. 

"More of that later. For now..." she gestured around the room. I looked around in shock, noticing the chaos for the first time. 

Mikhail, Jericho, and Signe were gathered around the bed that the Witch had previously been using, partially obscuring a broken, bloody Atticus from view. Anti was pacing back and forth behind them, his face pale and stricken.

Mark, Amy, and Dark were on the other side of the cabin tending to the animals. The white raven had a broken wing that Mark was in the process of setting under Dark's careful observation. Dark had a... was that a black cat clinging to his shoulder? The black raven, who appeared to be the only animal to escape unscathed, was nuzzling Chica, who's back left leg was being bandaged by Amy.

I couldn't see Virgil anywhere.

And Sean... I don't know how I knew to assume that Sean left with Fell. I don't know how I knew that looking for him would be hopeless. I really don't. 

But somehow, I just knew. 

Sean and Fell were long gone.

My head reeled as I struggled to process everything around me. I closed my eyes again, this time in real pain. We'd lost him. We'd lost Sean. The betrayal made it feel even worse than if he had died. In a way, I knew he did; the Sean we knew was gone. 

There was only him now.

"Hey." 

Marzia stepped in front of me and gently tilted my face down towards her. I opened my eyes and felt instantly better at the sight of her perfect face. I found myself wanting to smile down at her as her usual cold steel melted out of her chocolate eyes to be replaced by something soft and warm that she never allowed anyone but me to see. 

"Listen to me well, Felix: You are not alone in this. I will follow you forever. Wherever you go, whatever you do... you will have me by your side."   
She leaned up to place an abbreviated kiss on my lips before cradling my cheeks in her hands to make sure she had my full attention.   
"We will find him," she vowed fiercely, "we will play the hand of justice for his crimes. And then... we will bring him home." 

I pulled her to me and held her tight. I closed my eyes once more, this time thanking whatever God or Gods were up there that decided I somehow deserved her. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

Jericho's POV: 

"Do you think he'll be okay now?" I asked Mikhail worriedly as I finished up healing Atticus and stepped back to allow Anti to rush to his side. The Demon inspected him tensely before sending me a dark look over his shoulder.

"He fuckin' better be. If he dies, I'm coming after all of you," he growled. 

"We've done everything we can, Antioch," Mikhail assured him quietly. I was surprised to see the old Knight lay a hand on his shoulder. "It's all up to him now; and judging from what I've seen of the child thus far, I have no doubt he'll pull through." 

"...I guess." 

It was still strange to see Anti worrying over someone other than himself. It gave me hope that someone like Anti could turn around his life so completely; if something like that was possible, who knew what else the light could do? I turned to comment on this to Wiishu only to find that she had disappeared. 

"Hey, where did Signe go?" I asked Mikhail. He sighed and motioned to the door. 

"Outside. I imagine the Witch has a lot to work through at the moment," he said tiredly. 

I nodded and headed for the door. "I'll go talk to her."

"Do what you must. Though I don't think it will help; her wounds will only heal with time."

I knew that of course... but I still had to try. 

I found her standing a little ways away from the cabin, staring off into the distance as her dress fluttered behind her in the wind. She didn't acknowledge my presence until I was standing beside her; when she finally turned to look at me, I was struck by the cold steel in her eyes.

"Hey." 

"Hey," I echoed softly, just barely managing to muster up an encouraging smile. "Are you gonna be okay?" I shook my head and looked down at my feet. "Probably a dumb question. I know you're-" 

"No, it's... it's okay," she said, her stony eyes softening a bit. She broke my gaze and once again set her sights on the horizon with a wistful look. "I just can't believe he's really gone. I know I only knew him for a month, but he was..." 

Her voice cracked and she trailed off, unable to finish whatever she had been about to say. She crossed her arms over her chest, gripping her bare upper arms tightly and rubbing them as if she were hunching away from a cold wind. 

Before I could move to wrap my own arms around her, a familiar cloud of black and silver swooped by me to hover before her. Her lips twitched in an almost-smile as the nimbus reformed and gently slung a black suit jacket that was three sizes too big over her shoulders. 

"Hey, Dark," she greeted him softly. Dark brought his hands up to rest on her shoulders as he smiled down at her, fondness shining in his crimson eyes. 

"My old friend."

I stepped back to let them have a moment as they stood facing each other in silence, neither one needing words to say what mattered. Dark eventually drew her to him and held her against his chest, embracing her in a show of emotion that I'd never seen from him before. After a moment, Signe closed her eyes tightly and hugged him back.

"He's changed much over the years," Mikhail observed, making me jump. I recovered and smiled.

"...Yeah," I agreed. 

As we watched, Dark pulled back and bent to place a light kiss on her forehead. 

"Brave Signe...We have been through much together over the years. I knew from the moment I met you that you were exceptional." He put his hands on her shoulders again and looked straight into her eyes. "You are strong, Witch; this will only make you stronger." He stepped back and stood beside me. "Be courageous and persevere, and never let go of the compassion you showed me all those years ago. This will pass, and you will have your victory." 

"Thank you," she murmured thickly, her eyes shining with the unshed tears that she was too proud to let fall. 

Then, it was Mikhail's turn; He stopped before her, regarding her calmly. "I suppose you'll be leaving us now," the Knight said evenly, formal as ever. He sighed at Signe's nod and drew his daggers, holding them out to her handle first. "Then do what you must, Witch, and go with my blessing." 

She hesitated before slowly reaching out to take Mikhail's signature weapons of choice in her hands. She turned the cursed blades over and over, looking stricken.

"Micky, I... I don't know what-" 

He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. "Then say nothing, if there is nothing to be said," he told her gruffly, drawing a sardonic smirk from Signe. 

"You suck at goodbyes, you know that?" 

"Only when it's not really goodbye," he answered crisply. He gave her his back then and took a step towards the cabin before stopping to glance over his shoulder. 

"And Signe..." 

"Yeah?" 

It was his turn to smirk. "...Kick his ass." 

I was happy to see that even Signe cracked up at that, serenading us with her bright laughter. She eventually straightened and looked each of us over one last time. 

"You know what? I'm not saying goodbye either," she grinned. The air around her crackled with her soft, rosy energy as she raised her staff into the air. "Give everyone else my love, okay?" 

"WAIT!" 

The four of us turned to see Amy running towards us, cradling a small white thing in her hands. When she finally reached us, I realized that it was the white raven with the broken wing. 

"Okay, first of all," the Sprite huffed, narrowing her eyes at Signe in a glare, "how God dang dare you leave without so much as a howdy-do? Secondly..." 

To all of our surprise, Amy lifted the bird in her hands up to place it on Wiishu's shoulder. "This little birdie -name's Ato by the way- told me that he was going with you." 

"What? Why?" Signe asked, eyeing the bird on her shoulder in bemusement. 

Amy shrugged. "Something about destiny and going where he's needed... he didn't exactly use words, but I got the general idea." 

Ato cawed and ruffled his uninjured wing in agreement. 

"Well then... I guess I've got a new travel buddy." Signe threw her arms around Amy in a crushing bear hug before once again stepping back and raising her Caduceus.

"I'll see you all again someday," she promised with a smile. 

And with that, Signe Hansen disappeared.


	121. 121

Jericho's POV: 

We all stood there for about a minute in solemn silence. Well, all except for Mikhail; not the type to display his emotions, he immediately turned his back on us and returned to the cabin after Signe disappeared, calling over his shoulder to come back in whenever we were ready to touch base with everyone else.

I leaned back into Dark as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Are you ready?" He murmured in my ear.

"One moment." 

I pulled away from his embrace and reached for Amy's hand, taking it in my own with a gentle squeeze. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she actually jumped at my touch. 

"Are you ready?" I asked softly, echoing Dark's question. She looked down, but nodded after a moment and allowed herself to be lead back to the cabin. My heart ached for her; Dark and Mikhail might have lost a sister in arms, but Amy lost her best friend. I was comforted by the thought that she still had Mark and Chica to return to. 

We opened the door to see Mikhail standing in the middle of the room addressing the remaining members of our party. I did a quick head count to see who was left; Felix and Marzia, Mark and Amy, Chica, Mikhail, Atticus and Anti, the black raven, and the mysterious black cat who was scratching at a wall in the corner of the room. Virgo and Virgil were nowhere to be found; since Dark had already told me about Virgo's death, I could only assume that Virgil had joined her. 

There were only eight people left from the original group of twelve that we had when we entered the doors of the Munich Rauthaus. All things considered, I suppose things could have turned out worse... but it still hurt. 

"Please, take a seat," Mikhail told us. Amy let go of my hand and went to sit on the floor beside Mark and Chica, who immediately embraced her and covered her face and neck with licks. That last one was Chica, not Mark.   
Dark and I sat on the floor where we stood, leaning against the wall by the door. In any other circumstance, Dark probably would have stayed standing, but for once he was as worn out as the rest of us. 

"Mikhail broke the news," Anti said from where he sat on the foot of Atticus' bed. "So the Witch is really gone, huh?"   
He glanced away when I confirmed his conjecture with a nod. "Shame. I was kinda starting to like the gal." 

"Enough. We do not have the luxury of dwelling on the past," Mikhail said. 

"Dude, she left like two minutes ago," Anti scoffed, but put his hands up in a gesture of innocence at Mikhail's glare. "Alright, sorry. You do you, sociopath." 

"I will not dignify that comment with a response," Mikhail growled, turning his glare to Dark when the Demon chuckled at Anti's quip. The Knight closed his eyes then and inhaled deeply, letting his breath out in a sigh. 

"Now... for the issues at hand. Most of you," he addressed the rest of the group, "have probably been made aware of our situation. Our casualties, injuries, and... betrayals... have been dire." 

"You're not just gonna spout your usual doom and gloom all day, are you?" Felix asked, earning him a swat from Marzia, who was bandaging a shallow cut on his arm. "Ow, geez!" 

Mikhail raised an eyebrow. "No, Mr. Kjellburg. In fact, after today, you might not hear my 'doom and gloom' for a long time. Now, be silent and lend me your ears for a moment." 

He paused before continuing. 

"As I'm sure you know, Sean, who now goes by Jack, has fled with Fell. I have good reason to believe that the two of them will not show their faces again for a long time, a few years at least."

"And on who's authority is this?" Marzia asked without looking up from her work. Mikhail sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"For now, just give me your trust. Now," he lowered his hands and clasped them behind his back, "All of you must decide now what you want to do in the interim. Above all, we must keep in contact with each other; when Fell and Jack return, we will need every warrior we have for the ensuing battle. But until then, we must divide our forces and remain vigilant." 

With that, he turned and sat down on a chair near the door, crossing his arms and looking at each one of us in turn. "I ask only that you decide where you are going before you leave this place, and go there immediately without delay. The House and possibly the Resistance will be tracking all of our signatures; the less energy we have in one place, the harder it will be for them to do so. Go where you wish, but for now, at least, we cannot remain together." 

The ensuing silence was deafening as the threat was made abundantly clear. We would have two separate Paranormal associations, each harboring the intent to kill, breathing down our necks for possibly the rest of our lives. The atmosphere in the room turned dark and heavy as if the weight of Mikhail's foreboding announcement was a physical thing. 

Before anyone could respond, a loud mewl from the forgotten tabby cat broke the silence.


	122. 122

Virgil's POV: 

I repeatedly gouged my little claws into the wall as Mikhail droned on, only half listening at that point. I didn't really give a crap about whatever shpheel the old man was on; what really mattered at the moment was getting the shit-fiddles behind me to realize that I hadn't kicked the bucket.   
I'd run out of curse words to scream at them in my head pretty early on, so I had to be increasingly creative with my insults; Fuck-whitted twat wads was my personal favorite so far.

"I ask only that you decide where you are going before you leave this place, and go there immediately without delay. The House and possibly the Resistance will be tracking all of our signatures; the less energy we have in one place, the harder it will be for them to do so. Go where you wish, but for now, at least, we cannot remain together."

I growled in annoyance at the lack of acknowledgment of both my death and my presence. God fucking damnit! Did those Cock sockets seriously forget about me?!

Nuh-uh. Nope. Hell to the no.

I put my last finishing touches on my debut objet d'art and turned around to yell at them to pull their thumbs out of their asses and look the fuck over. It came out as an irkingly adorable little meow, but it did the trick; everyone stopped at the sound and turned their attention back to where it belonged: on me. 

However, the ensuing reaction was much more annoying. 

Jericho squealed in a girly show of delight and ran over to pluck me off the floor. "Oh yeah! I forgot about this little guy," she said as she cuddled me -cuddled me- up against her chest. I yowled and hissed, but she didn't seem to notice. I couldn't bring myself to scratch her, though. Not because I  was overly fond of her or anything... it was just that Dark would probably beat me to a bloody stain if I so much as laid a paw on her. 

"Wait..." the Demon in question murmured, walking past where I was being smothered to look at the wall that I had been scratching at. 

'Yes! Fucking finally! Read it and weep, you dumb bastard!' 

Jericho's POV: 

"Darling..." Dark called, pulling my attention away from the black haired cutie, "You might want to see this." 

I looked over to see him crouched on the other side of the room, looking pointedly at me and tapping the wall beside him. There were little words etched messily into the wood that I had to squint to read. My eyes widened when I finally deciphered the message: 

NOT DEAD, BITCHES.

"Well. At least there's some good news for a change..." Anti muttered, a smirk in his voice. "There's only one person who could have written that."


	123. 123

Jericho's POV: 

Everyone in the room slowly turned their eyes from the wall to the black cat, whom I was now holding at arm's length. The feline gave me a somehow pointed look. 

"Uh... Virgil...?" I asked hesitantly, feeling awkward even as I did so; conversing with a cat was a new experience. There were murmurs of shock from everyone in the room when it gave a little nod. 

"Oh my God! Crap, I'm so sorry!" I yelped as I lowered the black tabby that I now knew was Virgil to the ground. "How did you... how did this happen??" 

To my confusion, his only answer was to let out another mewl, his tail twitching in agitation. Couldn't he use telepathy to speak?

Anti started cracking up wildly on the other side of the room. "Oh, this is God damn priceless!" He gasped between cackles. 

"Don't be an ass," I snapped, turning to glare at the Demon. "What do you know?"

"Virgil can't speak," Dark answered for him, looking just as amused. "Not even with his mind. Every living creature has a unique mental voice; like any infant just learning to speak, it will take time to figure out how to communicate again."

Virgil let out an anguished yowl and began scratching the floor in what I assumed was the cat version of slamming your fists on the ground. A flurry of negative emotions rolled off of him in violent waves, bathing the room in a chaotic mix of grief, fear, rage, and frustration. Even Anti shut up, trading his hyena impression for a look of pity as Virgil finally snapped under the stress of everything that had happened. Even if he couldn't speak, we could still feel it all; the loss of his father, his sister, his voice, his body... even his pride. It was heartbreaking. 

I stepped forward to comfort him, but Chica trotted over and beat me to it. The retriever whined and laid down beside Virgil, gently nuzzling his head with her snout. He froze after a moment and slowly drew back to look at her in shock. 

"Wait... I heard that! I can hear you!" She turned to the rest of us and barked happily, her tail wagging. "I can hear him, guys!"


End file.
